


Catharsis

by daffydarling



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Strong Female Characters, Teenage Tom Riddle, Time Travel, Wizarding World (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:47:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 59
Words: 305,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27200035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daffydarling/pseuds/daffydarling
Summary: "The people who often times do terrible things, are the same ones who have had terrible things done to them."After Lord Voldemort murdered Harry Potter in the Battle of Hogwarts, the world became plagued with a darkness unlike anything it had seen before. Muggles were slaughtered in the streets, the Dark wizard's opponents were executed for show, and all those who had fought with the Order were forced into hiding.Avalon Hendrix had lost everything- her friends, her peers, her loved ones. Everything. So, when she was thrown back in time to 1943, she knew that it was up to her to change the course of time and rewrite a new history- one in which she must find the Horcruxes and murder Tom Riddle before he could ever become Voldemort.Tom Riddle.Avalon Hendrix.Either she was going to kill him, or he was going to kill everyone she loved. They were nothing more than two products of extreme circumstance that chose two very different paths, yet had time for their roads to converge.•WARNING• This book contains themes and scenes that are intended for a mature audience.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Tom Riddle/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 124
Kudos: 362





	1. Chapter 1

In a sense, it was calming.

The air was cool, the night was still, and the hushed voices of the remaining members of the Order above them served as a subtle reminder that at least they were not alone.

Avalon quietly hummed a lullaby through closed lips, trying to quell the violent trembling in her hands as she gently ran her fingers through the tangled mess that was Hermione’s hair. 

They sat before a mirror, but she could barely recognize the two people staring back at them. The two best friends who had met first year on the Hogwarts Express were long gone. In their place, stood two people with the ghosts of their loved ones swimming in their empty eyes. 

She couldn’t look at her friend’s eyes anymore. It broke her whenever she did.

Two brown eyes that once belonged to the brightest witch of her time… 

Empty.

She thought about the things she would do to just see her friend smile one more time. Or to hear her voice.

Even though they were sitting right beside each other, she felt as though Hermione was already dead. And quite honestly, a part of her, a rather selfish part, almost wished that the witch  _ had  _ died along with the others. Perhaps a quick death would have been a less painful end than to lose her mind after hours of the cruciatus curse.

She couldn’t brush through her friend’s hair any more. Her fingers were shaking too much and she feared she would accidentally yank out the poor girl’s hair if she tried any more. She stopped and started to quietly pound her hands on the wooden floors. 

Silence scared her. Silence meant that there was something that needed to be hidden from. 

So, she made noise. Not too much. Never too much. But just enough to hear something. 

“Tomorrow is your birthday, love,” she said to Hermione, her voice nearly failing her as she choked on the last word. Her friend just stared blankly ahead of her. She never replied, but Avalon still held hope that one day she’d hear the witch’s voice once more. 

Perhaps she was being delusional, but she didn’t care anymore.

“I’m so proud of you,” she said, her voice just barely a whisper. And that was the truth. She was so proud of her friend. And she would continue to remind her of that every chance she got, even if she wasn’t sure if her friend could understand her anymore. But as she watched the silent girl before her, her mind strayed towards the last time they had all been able to celebrate a birthday together.

It had been Ginny’s birthday and they had all gathered at the Burrow to surprise her. All she could think about was the sound of their laughter. Beautiful, carefree, and joyous.

She felt her head start to throb as the memories of their laughter quickly faded to more recent screams. The sound of Hermione’s screams as she was tortured at the hands of the Death Eaters was something she knew she would never be able to get out of her brain.

Every night, she would lie awake on the concrete floor of the makeshift safehouse that they had been hiding in and stared at the ceiling as the memories of her friends being abused before her plagued her subconscious. 

She hadn’t noticed that she had begun to rock back and forth on the ground. In that moment, she’d do anything for someone to comfort her. To hold her, and tell her that things would be okay. Even if that was a lie, it was one she needed to hear. 

The door at the top of the staircase opened, startling her, but it was just Luna. “Hello,” the blonde greeted her. Her voice was still as soft as before, but she no longer spoke with the same curiosity embedded into her words. Even she had lost faith, it seemed.

Avalon couldn’t find it in herself to return the verbal greeting, so she just nodded. 

“Would you like to go upstairs and take a break? I can sit with Hermione,” the blonde said as she descended down into the room. “I’d love to talk to her.”

Usually, she objected to leaving her friend’s side, but at that moment, she felt nauseous from the screams echoing in her mind. She just stood up and walked upstairs, her movements slow but steady. 

It didn’t feel real. None of it felt real. The walls around her didn’t feel real. The people speaking in hushed voices around her didn’t feel real. The quiet radio listing off the names of the executed wizards didn’t feel real. 

And the photos of their loved ones that they had lined on the table… didn’t feel real. 

She stared at the photo of Harry. It was a picture from after he had completed the first task at the Triwizard Tournament. He looked happy. He looked excited.

Her throat went dry and her eyes began to sting, but no tears poured. She hadn’t cried in a long time.. All she was capable of doing was staring at the photo.

Everything changed the day Voldemort killed Harry Potter.

It was hard to remember what life was like before He took power. The days following Harry’s death had been brutal for everyone. They weren’t able to ever have a funeral for him. Or for any of the fallen, really.

Their bodies were paraded in the streets, turned into examples for those who dared go against Voldemort. The battle that followed was the beginning of an endless cycle of bloodshed that had yet to cease. 

His followers had wiped out virtually all opposition. After the battle, the few survivors had a choice to make: either pledge their allegiance to Voldemort, or be publicly executed. Some went into hiding, but the Death Eaters were persistent. They went door to door, house to house, turning over every last building until they found anyone that didn’t agree with their leader. 

They murdered the innocent in their own homes and danced over their lifeless bodies as if they were nothing. 

The safehouse suddenly felt suffocating to her. She scrambled towards the door, opening it up and throwing herself into the dark shadows outside, letting the oxygen flow into her lungs and praying it would provide her with some sort of solace.

It did not. It never did. And it never would. But she’d be damned if she stayed one more second inside that godforsaken house. 

They were rarely allowed to go outside in fear that they would be spotted, but she ignored the worried glances from the others and buried her head in her trembling hands while falling onto her knees and quivering over the wet mulch of the forest. 

She wanted so badly to scream. She wanted so badly to cry. She wanted so badly to close her eyes and never have them open again. 

But all she could manage to do was sit there as her body trembled violently, as it had done ever since the night after the Battle of Hogwarts when she and Hermione were blasted with curse after curse until Hermione was silenced and Avalon was broken. 

And no matter how hard she tried to stay strong, that was all that she was now: broken.

The worst part was that there was no way out. They had exhausted every last option, they had failed at every last plan, and they had lost every last battle. It was over. Voldemort had won. 

They weren’t trying anymore. There was nothing left to do. The war was over, no matter how hard they wanted to believe it wasn’t. They had no army, they had no supporters, and they had no power. 

It was a miracle that they were even still alive. 

Silence. 

Complete silence.

She suddenly became aware of the eerie quiet that had enveloped her. It was always quiet in the forest, but something felt wrong. 

Before she knew what was happening, with a loud  _ crack _ a dark figure apparated beside her with a loud ‘crack’ and covered her mouth as she was shoved against the nearest tree. She began to struggle, but was greeted with a pair of familiar black eyes. 

“I need you to listen carefully to me as we don’t have much time,” Snape whispered. She hadn’t seen him since the Battle of Hogwarts, but knew he was still a spy amid Voldemort’s inner circle. His eyes were frantic, which was rare for the usually stoic ex-professor. “They will be here in just a few moments.”

Her heart sank into her stomach.

“You have to go back and put an end to this before it’s too late. Find him. It’s all that we have left to try,” he said, reaching into his robes and pulling out a small golden object. It took her a moment to register what it was. 

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice unsure as she saw him put in a date into the small time turner. 1943. “Have you lost your damn mind?”

“This will only be able to get you there. You’ll have to find another one when you arrive if you want to get back.”

“Are you mad? Time turners can’t go that far back,” she said, trying to pry herself away from him as he placed the time turner around her neck. She tried to rip it off her neck, and he pointed his wand at her and muttered a low immobility charm at her, freezing her body as he wound up the time turner. 

“Look around, we have lost! We are out of options!”

And suddenly, dozens of dark figures started swirling around the safehouse, bolting in through the windows and leaving shards of broken glass flying everywhere. She screamed, no longer able to stay silent, but Snape didn’t let that phase him. 

“I’m not leaving them,” she hissed, trying her hardest to move her limbs, but failing miserably. Her body was too frail. 

“I’m afraid you have no choice, Miss Hendrix.” He took a step back, ignoring the chaos that was ensuring before his very eyes as the Death Eaters raided the safehouse. Screams were coming from inside, but all she heard was him. “Find him. Make sure he has no Horcruxes. Kill him.” His eyes locked with one of the Death Eaters and she swore she could see a single tear drip down his cheek. “You’re our last hope.”

She saw several blinding green lights exit the tips of the Death Eaters wands, and then the world around her started to blur.

And that was it.

She watched as Snape disappeared before her eyes while the world around her shifted, changed, and morphed, time dragging her back into an unknown era far from what she knew.

It was an odd feeling-- to see her life as she knew it flee before her eyes and quickly be replaced by a time unknown to her. As the world finally slowed down once more, she had to steady herself against a tree as she attempted to quell her rigid breathing.

Her chest felt burning hot. She looked down and saw the golden time turner was glowing a bright orange, leaving a trace of singed skin beneath it. Her hands frantically tore the turner off her neck and onto the forest floor just a mere instant before it broke into a million fragments of mixed glass and sand, apparently unable to withstand the strain that had been put on it from the journey. 

She stared at it blankly, her fingers trembling once more. 

Her head whipped around to see the safehouse was gone. In its place stood just an empty forest floor. As far as she could see, she was the only sign of life for miles.

Her body crumpled onto the ground and she did all that she knew how to do. She screamed.

It was a blood curdling scream, the kind she had only let out once in her life before this-- when she had been under the strain of the cruciatus curse. Her thoughts were plagued with the visions of green.

_ It was always green. _

Every time she lost someone, that same flash of green was responsible. 

She screamed until her throat felt raw. She screamed until her eyes were watering. She screamed until every last fragment of her little remaining hope had been obliterated into nothingness. 

And when the silence finally met her again, she began to cry. 

She felt pathetic for it, too, but she couldn’t hold it in any longer. Every time she closed her eyes, the ghosts of the fallen plagued her mind and she couldn’t take it anymore. Her chest hurt from deep within, a pain aching through her heart with an intensity so strong that it made her entire body tremble from within. 

Everything she had ever cared about had been destroyed.

Everywhere she wanted to go was now in shambles.

Everyone she had ever loved had been murdered.

And all that she had left was a deep sense of hurt that haunted her every waking moment. 

Snape’s last words rang loud and clear in her ears _. _

_ ‘Find him. Make sure he has no Horcruxes. Kill him. You’re our last hope.’ _

It was that exact moment when her tears stopped flowing again. It was that exact moment when she accepted that she had a job that she had to complete.

It was that exact moment when she decided that she was going to rewrite the course of history. Playing with time was dangerous, that much she knew. The fact that Snape, of all people, was the one who sent her here proved that they had exhausted every other option. This wasn’t Plan B. This wasn’t Plan C. This wasn’t even Plan Z. 

This was just their last shot. 

She knew she had to do this. She had to do this for Harry. For Hermione. For Sirius. For Fred. For Tonks. For Lupin. For Lavender. For Dobby. For Dumbledore. For Cedric. For every damn person that they had lost. 

And it was that exact moment, she allowed her actions to be consumed by her anger. Her judgement was darkened by the death and destruction that her eyes had witnessed. With nothing left to lose, she surrendered control of every ounce of love, kindness, and humility in her body and replaced it with a desperate rage that had an all-consuming desire for bloodshed. The bloodshed of one particular person. 

She was going to kill Tom Riddle.

End it all before it began. 

She was going to save the future by altering the past.

Her body moved sluggishly, but with an air of purpose as she reached down and slid her wand out of her boot. 

Hogwarts. She had to get to Hogwarts.

She knew she couldn’t apparate onto the castle grounds, so she did the next best thing and focused on the place she knew would give her a solid shot. Her thoughts were hard to clear, as focus was difficult to achieve these days, but she managed to zone in and think about the Hog’s Head Inn at Hogsmeade before apparating. 

It was almost comforting to see Hogsmeade still intact when she arrived. There were plenty of smiling students and laughing wizards. For a moment, things almost felt normal.

She was snapped back into reality, though, when she noticed the concerned glances that people were shooting her way. The girls with their neatly curled hair and ankle length dresses and the boys with their sweater vests and pushed back hair all stared at her as she stood in the middle of the busy square. Her tattered clothes and bruised body suddenly became very evident to her. 

Her feet dragged her forward, towards the inn. She stared at the door blankly for a moment before opening it up and stepping inside. It wasn’t all too busy, and it really didn’t look much different than it did in modern times.

The last time she had been inside had been with Harry. 

She had to shake the thought out of her head and continued scanning the inn until she saw who she was looking for. He looked so young, and if she hadn’t seen photos of his brother at this same age, then she might not have even recognized him to begin with, but she strode up to him cautiously. 

“Aberforth?” 

He eyed her up and down, his face quite stoic. “Do I know you?”

“Not yet,” she said under her breath. “I need your help.”

He didn’t speak.

“I need you to get me into Hogwarts.”

“How would I be able to do that?” he asked, turning his back to her as he began going about his mundane cleaning tasks again. 

“The painting,” she said. He froze, but only for an instant. 

“I haven’t the slightest clue what you’re referring to,” he grumbled. 

“The painting of Ariana. I know where it leads, you’ve let me use it before,” she said, praying that he would listen to her. “I know you don’t remember me, but you have to trust me when I say that I am an old friend of yours. You’ve helped me before and I’m begging you to help me again now. I can’t fully explain, but just know that the fate of so many people rests on me being able to get to Hogwarts right now.” He looked at her through the corner of his eyes and she sighed. “Please.”

For a few minutes, she was starting to believe that he was going to refuse to help her. But finally, he walked over to the painting and nodded at the portrait of his late sister. Ariana smiled softly at the two of them before walking into the distance, the painting swinging open and revealing a pathway that Avalon knew led to Hogwarts.

“Thank you so much,” she said, giving him an unreturned hug before she bolted into the passageway and started her descent into the castle grounds. She heard Aberforth closing the entrance once more, and before she knew it, she was enveloped in an inky darkness that shrouded her vision entirely. She took out her wand and muttered a quiet, “Lumos,” to light up the path, walking forward in the silent path.

She hummed quietly to herself, desperate to quell the quiet. 

The passage felt longer than she remembered it, but perhaps that was because she hadn’t been alone the last time she used it. It occurred to her then that she was on her own, not just right now, but for the duration of this mission.

Her friends weren’t here to help her. She had to do this alone.

She wasn’t particularly nervous, nor was she afraid, because she knew she could do it. It was just a matter of how. She knew that she couldn’t just kill him outright. If he already had created any Horcruxes, that would do nothing other than give away her cover. No, she had to play her cards right.

He was dangerous. He always had been, and he always would be. She couldn’t mess this up. Not this time. 

Finally, she started to see light at the end of the tunnel and her feet began to propel her towards the exit. She stumbled out, greeted by the open air of the Room of Requirement. A relieved laugh escaped her lips when she saw the neatly folded robes and uniform on the table in the center of the room. 

Ravenclaw. Just like back home.

She slipped out of her war-torn clothes and pulled on her familiar Hogwarts uniform, smiling to herself at the comforting feel of the fabric against her skin. She tried to avoid looking at her body as she changed. The years had not been kind to her. Scars and bruises littered her features, most prominently along her sides. 

She tried not to think about how they had cut her open again and again in an attempt to force her to speak about the whereabouts of Harry Potter. She tried not to think about how they had lashed her with whipping after whipping to break her into submission. She tried not to think about how they had broken so many of her bones that she could still hear their snaps replaying in her ears every time she fell asleep. 

A part of her didn’t want to leave the room. It was familiar, and it was, for the time being at least, safe. But, she knew she had a job to do. She walked over to the door and took in a deep breath before shoving the entrance open and slipping out into the corridor. Nobody was around and her footsteps echoed in the hallways as she walked towards the main hallways, desperate to find life within the castle walls. 

She heard the chitter chatter of the students and felt a small wave of relief wash over her as she was greeted with dozens of students in red, blue, green, and yellow adorned robes. Young children, teenagers, and professors all scrambling throughout the castle to rush to their next classes. There were no familiar faces, but she still felt oddly at home surrounded by all the strangers. To see Hogwarts bustling with life rather than littered with death was a blessing of its own, one that she was trying to cherish and hold onto as it stood before her.

She didn’t have much of a plan, but her feet carried her forward as she got trapped within the crowd. Her body simply fell in stride with the rest of the students and she allowed the mob to pull her towards an aimless destination, just following the rest of them as they scurried through the castle. 

A small smile found its way onto her lips. It was so loud. Laughter rang through the air, footsteps echoed through the pathways, and conversations about classes, Quidditch, and Hogsmeade were abundant in her ears. 

She looked at the castle grounds, nostalgia washing over her as she thought about her first time walking through these exact hallways. The awe she had felt when she first arrived at Hogwarts was a pure elation she wasn’t sure if she would ever feel again. This castle had grown to be her home over the years, and seeing it in all of its glory, without the signs of the battles, warmed her broken heart beyond measure. 

Her eyes darted around, desperate to take in as much of it as possible. 

All the noises around her faded to nothingness though when she saw him. 

Silence. Absolute silence. 

He was walking the opposite direction as she was and they only barely looked into each other’s eyes, but a shiver ran down her spine when he passed. His eyes were a brown so deep that they looked nearly black to her, and his arms were tightly gripping several books to his side as he slid past the students towards the library. She had seen him only once before this, in a memory that Harry had shown her, but it was undoubtedly him. 

She turned her body so quickly that she knocked down a young Gryffindor in the process, all of her books spilling to the floor in the process. Avalon didn’t even bother to mutter a simple apology, she was too focused on trying to follow  _ him _ . But as more students rushed into the corridor as classes ended, she quickly found herself struggling to keep up with him against a sea of other students. 

His figure faded into the rest just as quickly as he had passed, blurring into just another body among countless draped in green detailed robes. 

_ It was always green. _


	2. Chapter 2

She scrambled to follow him. Her body shoved past all the students walking in the opposite direction, paying little regard for who she had to shove away to run after him. 

Her eyes scanned the hallways, desperate to find their target once more. It didn’t take long for her to notice him again. He was hard to miss. His height towered over most of the others, and he walked at a quicker pace. 

If rage had a face, she would be it. 

Her knuckles turned white from her grip on her wand. He was stopped by another boy, roughly his own age, with curly blond hair and matching Slytherin robes. Every moment they were stopped in conversation, she strode closer and closer to him, her vision going blurry from the anger coursing through her veins.

He was right there.

The reason for the hurt. The reason for the death. The reason for the war. 

He was right there. 

She didn’t have a plan. She knew she couldn’t kill him right then. She had to make sure he didn’t have any Horcruxes, but that didn’t make it any easier for her to quell her thirst for bloodshed in that moment. 

In order for the Killing Curse to work, one has to mean it. You have to _want_ to take a life, and you have to believe, with every ounce of your being, that you _desire_ the curse to work. And she knew, with absolutely no doubt in her heart, that she could kill him right then and there. She had used that curse before-- four times, actually. Each time on another faceless Death Eater that had stolen the life of one of her loved ones.

A life for a life.

In this case, it would be a life for thousands of lives. 

She had never been more tempted to do anything before, but as she found herself raising her wand, a familiar face wedged himself between her and her prey. 

“Well, I don’t believe we have met, yet, my dear.”

She stared directly past him, refusing to break her line of vision connecting her to her target, but the professor shifted his weight to rest into her direct view. He stood patiently before her, waiting for her animalistic eyes to finally focus on him. It wasn’t until she registered who the man before her was that she actually lowered her wand again. 

Dumbledore stood before her, a bemused smile written on his lips. A part of her wanted to give him a hug. She had missed him. He looked so different, yet still so similar to the man she knew. His auburn hair was littered with silver streaks and his beard was beginning to stretch past his neck, though not nearly as impressive as she remembered it to be. 

The sight of a familiar face within the sea of strangers before her brought a smile to her lips.

“Would you like to come to my office?” he offered, as though he could read her mind. “Perhaps then you could inform me of when we accepted a new student that I wasn’t aware of.”

She nodded, though her eyes flickered back to where Tom Riddle had once stood, a hint of disappointment flashing across her features when she noticed that he had disappeared in the time she had been interrupted by the professor. 

He began to lead her through the corridors, occasionally waving at some of his students as they weaved their way through the crowds and towards his office. She noticed he was taking them to the transfiguration classroom and it then occurred to her how strange it was to not see him occupying the role of Headmaster.

He held the door open for her and motioned for her to walk inside, shutting the entrance behind them as they were left alone in the classroom. There was a comfortable quiet between the two of them as he made his way over to his desk and sat down on its edge, his lips slightly curved upwards as he spoke to her. “Well, I must say. It’s not every day I see an unfamiliar face around here. I usually know all of our students before the end of their first year.”

She froze, not entirely sure what she could tell him in fear of exposing too much. Time was a sensitive thing, she knew that much for sure. 

He took her silence as a clue to try an alternate approach. “May I ask what your name is?”

“Avalon,” she said. “Avalon Hendrix.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Hendrix. My name is Albus Dumbledore. I am the Transfiguration professor here at Hogwarts.”

“It is lovely to meet you, sir.”

“When did you arrive here? I don’t recall seeing you yesterday when the rest of the students came to the grounds for the new year.”

“Today, actually. Unfortunately, it appears being on time is not one of my greatest talents, sir,” she said.

He nodded. “And what year are you, my dear?”

“Sixth,” she said. 

“Can you tell me where you came from?”

She once again chose to keep her mouth shut. 

He nodded. “I see you have found yourself some Ravenclaw robes. Were you sorted already?”

“I suppose you could say that,” she said. She noticed that his eyes were glued to her hands-- to her war torn, scar littered skin. “Professor, I am sorry I am being so vague. There are just many things that I cannot tell you right now, even though I want nothing more than to explain myself fully.”

There was a brief moment where she thought he was going to speak, but he closed his mouth and pondered for a little while longer, his gaze never leaving her hands. His next words were chosen carefully. “Are you in danger?”

“We all are, sir.” She felt her fingers trembling as her memories threatened to overtake her senses again. “I can’t tell you everything. I can’t, and for that I am so sorry. But there is someone at this school who I know is going to one day do very terrible things and I am here to ensure that that doesn’t happen.” She swore she saw a hint of realization in his eyes, but it was gone before she could really register it. “Please, sir. I need you to trust me.”

He paused for what felt like an eternity. It was silent in his office, and she began to tap her foot on the ground as she waited for him to finally answer her. His eventual response shocked her, honestly. “I’ll notify the Headmaster that we have a new student who transferred from Durmstrang and was sorted into Ravenclaw.”

Relief washed over her. “Thank you.”

He nodded, but as she began to slowly turn to leave his office, he spoke once more. “Miss Hendrix, I must warn you. Meddling with the past is a dangerous thing for someone to do.”

She felt a sad smile paint itself onto her lips as she looked at him. “I don’t think people with better options choose to do that, sir.”

“I don’t see why they would,” he agreed, that familiar, all-knowing glint in his eyes making an appearance. “I assume you know where the Ravenclaw Tower is? There is an empty bed in one of the double dorms that I’m sure you will find to your liking. I will leave your class schedule on your bed. You can start your classes tomorrow with the rest of the students. As for now, I reckon dinner is being served in the Great Hall. I take it you must be famished after your…travels.”

Heaven only knows how long it had been since she had eaten a proper meal. They rarely had anything appetizing in the safehouse, not that it mattered much. Nobody had an appetite ever. The sound of her stomach grumbling was enough of an indication for him to continue. “Would you like me to walk you over?”

“That would be nice, sir. Thank you.”

He clapped his hands together and shoved himself off his desk. “Shall we?” he said as he motioned towards the door. 

She made her way out of the classroom, going through their conversation over and over in her head as they wandered out of the corridors. It had gone surprisingly better than she had expected, though knowing Dumbledore, she wasn’t particularly shocked that he had understood her desperation. It seemed that the man had always been gifted in his ability to handle unknown situations thrown his way. 

The two of them did not speak while they made their way over to their next destination. It seemed they were both busy making sense of the situation that had unfolded before them.

The Great Hall was not too far from Dumbledore’s classroom and they made their way over rather quickly. As they approached, she began to hear the sounds of students chattering among each other. Their voices were jumbled, but elation was evident in the ring of their words.

Dumbledore shot her one last look, an encouraging smile, before he shoved open the doors to the Hall and led them inside. The entire room grew quiet as the two of them walked into view, all eyes quickly gluing themselves to the professor and the unknown student by his side. Dumbledore gently touched her shoulder before excusing himself and walking to the front of the Hall, moving quickly as he made his way over to Headmaster Dippet. She recognized the man from portraits that hung in Hogwarts’ hallways in her own time. 

She stood by the door awkwardly awaiting as she watched the Professor whisper into the Headmaster’s ear. The Headmaster’s eyes shifted towards her, joining the gaze of the rest of the students, before a smile overtook his lips and he walked forward, pressing his wand to his throat and speaking loudly to the school.

“It appears we have a new student.”

Every single pair of eyes in the Hall were glued to the dark haired girl standing at the entryway. Every single pair of eyes except those belonging to a certain curly haired Prefect who had his nose in a book. Tom didn’t bother to glance up, though it was hard to concentrate on his reading while the boys around him were all whispering to one another. 

Dippet continued to speak. “Everyone please welcome Miss Avalon Hendrix, Ravenclaw’s newest sixth year coming to us from the Durmstrang Institute.”

The mention of Durmstrang sent a cool chill through the school. Every student exchanged a nervous glance with their friends, low mumbles echoing through the Hall as they nervously clapped for the new student. Nobody knew what to expect of an ex-student from the school Grindelwald had attended. 

The girl nodded to her peers before she made her way over to Ravenclaw’s table. Her black hair swayed as she walked, the subtle waves reflecting light as she strode gracefully towards the end of the table, distancing herself from the rest of her housemates. She walked with an air of authority in her stride, carrying herself with poise, but also power. 

Her hazel eyes seemed to be scanning the room as she walked, taking note of her surroundings carefully. It wasn’t until her eyes landed on the boys at the Slytherin table that she locked her gaze.

“A transfer from Durmstrang?” Nott asked, looking over at his friends. “You reckon she knows Dark Magic, then?”

“Of course she knows Dark Magic, they teach it religiously at that school,” Rosier replied, his stare glued to the new student as she looked back their way. “My parents almost sent me there instead of this dump. Imagine.”

Lestrange was eyeing her hungrily, his lips twisted into a delighted grin. It was hard to tell if she was staring at him, Avery, or Riddle, but he didn’t care much as he nudged the two boys on either side of him. “Back off boys, I’m claiming this one.”

Riddle didn’t flinch, but Avery’s eyes narrowed on his friend, sending daggers his way. “And who says you can do that?”

“Me, darling,” he smirked. “Try anything and you _will_ regret it.”

“Hendrix… Haven’t heard of the last name. Think she’s pureblood?” Mulciber asked.

Lestrange shrugged. “Well, Durmstrang doesn’t admit mudbloods, so she has to be at least half.”

“And you’ve resorted to shagging half-bloods now, have you?” Rosier said, his face contorting with disgust.

Lestrange bit his bottom lip, stifling a laugh. “Always so pessimistic. Cheers to hoping she’s pureblood and a toast to the drinks we will down if I find out she isn’t.” He raised his glass in a joking toast, but the others just groaned at his gesture. 

“Why the sudden fascination, anyway?” Avery asked, his blue eyes filled with more confusion than disdain as he rested his head on his hands.

“Just want to give the new girl a proper Hogwarts welcome,” he said with a wink. 

Avery opened his mouth to argue, but Mulciber cut him off. “Let him have her. He’s already ‘welcomed’ the rest of the school. Must be getting boring after exhausting all his other options.”

“Perhaps I should let you go after her, seeing as you haven’t had a woman look your way since year two,” Lestrange retorted.

“Now, now, that’s not true,” Nott said. “I saw the way Madame Bardot looked at him when he went to the infirmary last year after getting pounded with a bludger.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have gotten hit if Avery hadn’t left me wide open,” Mulciber said, rolling his eyes. 

“Well while you were doing that, I was too busy catching the snitch and winning us the match,” Nott said, his lips twisting into his usual cocky smile. 

“Are they planning on feeding us any time soon?” Avery groaned, throwing his head back and staring at the floating candles above them as Dippet continued talking about the upcoming school year. 

“I’m hungry for something else,” Lestrange said, his eyes still glued to the new girl. 

“You’re revolting,” Rosier said, shaking his head at his best friend. 

“And yet you’ve put up with me all these years,” he replied.

Riddle glanced up from his book just in time to look over towards the new Ravenclaw, his eyes meeting hers for the second time that day. Neither one of them smiled at one another, though they held each other’s gaze for a few seconds before he broke it to look at the feast that appeared before them. He wasn’t particularly hungry, but he watched as his fellow Slytherins lunged towards the meal, forgetting about their previous conversation. 

“Are you not going to eat?” Avery asked him between bites of a turkey leg. 

“I’m busy,” Riddle answered coolly, his eyes returning to his book.

“Busy? Doing what?” Rosier scoffed. “Classes haven’t even started.”

“This is why he’s a Prefect and you’ve failed transfiguration two years in a row,” Lestrange snickered. “No worries, Tommy boy, keep reading.”

And that’s exactly what he did. 

Every once in a while, someone would come up to them and greet them, and he would listen as they said they had missed him over summer and were glad to see him again. He never reciprocated their words, but he did nod and feign a charming smile, and apparently, that was enough for them. 

It seemed as though the welcome party was nonstop. He grew tired of having to greet his peers, though he refused to let his disdain show, so he kept his lips pointed upwards every time another student approached them. It had taken him little to no time to learn that the key to influence was being well liked, so if the price of his power was a simple smile, smile he would.

The feast seemed to last forever in his mind, but when it finally ended, he was one of the first to stand up and head towards the exit. Several first years who had already forgotten where the Slytherin common room was scurried after him, following him aimlessly as he weaved through the corridors towards the house dorms. 

Avalon spent the rest of the feast on her own. A couple of Ravenclaws looked her way and smiled a few times, but her eyes were far too locked on her classmate across the Hall to pay them much attention, which nobody minded much.

It was nightfall by the time they finished and she made her way to the Ravenclaw Tower, deciding that she had earned a good night’s rest before her first day of classes. She took the long way, avoiding several spots in the castle.

She didn’t think she could walk where her friends had died. Their memory plagued her mind like a disease, eating her up any time she was reminded of their presence-- or, to put it accurately, lack thereof. 

Her feet dragged up the spiral staircase leading to the tower. It wasn’t until then that she truly realized how exhausted she was. There was an ache in her body resonating through her bones, born from months of hiding in refuge. The thought of having a bed, a real bed, to sleep in tonight was enough to add a little bit of a bounce back into her step as she ascended all the way to the common room entrance. She stood before the brass eagle knocker on the door, awaiting its riddle.

“What is always coming but never arrives?” 

She laughed at the irony. “Tomorrow.”

The door swung open, revealing the common room. Oh, how she had missed it. The blue silks hung from the ceiling swayed past the open windows as the breeze blew through the airy room. Views of the night stretched out through the glass planes, illuminating the marble statue of Rowena Ravenclaw in a subtle cast of ethereal moonlight.

“I just don’t know why she was sorted into Ravenclaw,” she heard a voice grumble. Her line of sight landed on a group of students roughly her age, huddled around one of the tables, talking to each other. 

“I thought for sure someone from Durmstrang would be Slytherin. They teach Dark Magic, for Heaven’s sake.”

One of the students cleared his throat and they all turned to look at her, standing at the entrance. It didn’t bother her that the other students weren’t too fond of her, though she did hope her newfound reputation wouldn’t be a barrier to learning more about Riddle. 

Instead of waiting for an apology that she figured wasn’t coming, she just carried herself past them, walking to the dorms. Dumbledore had mentioned that one of the double rooms would be hers, so she climbed up more stairs, peeking into every dormitory until she spotted a double with one vacant bed. 

She knocked on the door, her gaze meeting that of another girl her age. She was beautiful, with dark skin and black hair that fell in perfect coiled ringlets before her brown eyes that glistened in the dimly lit room. 

“I take it you’re my new roommate,” she said. Her voice was kind, almost dreamlike. Avalon immediately thought of Luna and smiled. “Welcome to Hogwarts.”

“Thank you,” she replied, walking over to the empty bed. She breathed a small sigh of relief when she noticed the pile of freshly folded clothing brandished with her class schedule sitting atop it. She’d have to thank Dumbledore next time she saw him, for sure. 

“My name is Zelda Shacklebolt,” the girl said, shifting atop her bed to face Avalon more directly. 

“Avalon Hendrix,” she replied, though she was sure Zelda already heard her name at the feast. She couldn’t help but feel at ease around the girl. The thought of her being one of Kingsley’s relatives warmed her heart. No wonder she seemed so kind. 

“I hope you don’t mind, but I looked at your schedule as soon as I saw it. Looks like we have several classes together. Defense Against the Dark Arts, Potions, Transfiguration, and Herbology.”

“It’ll be great to see a familiar face,” she said, honestly. 

“I’ll make sure to introduce you to some people soon. Hogwarts will feel a lot more like a home when you begin to get to know everyone.”

“I don’t think too many people are keen on getting to know me.”

“They’re merely afraid of the unknown. With the war going on, a lot of people are afraid of ties to Durmstrang because of its connection to Grindelwald.”

“You aren’t?”

“It doesn’t matter much to me. Seems rather silly to judge someone for the school they went to, doesn’t it?”

“I would agree,” Avalon said, smiling.

Zelda leaned back onto the pillow on her bed and motioned towards the hallway. “Bathrooms are at the end of the hall and there’s two boys that live three doors down from us who tend to have snacks always on hand if you ever are in the mood for something sweet.”

“Thank you,” she said sincerely before she opened up her cabinet, mentally blessing Dumbledore for the towels he had supplied her with. She picked up a plain blue one and walked down the hall to the bathroom, eager to wash off for the first time in what felt like ages.

Most of the students were either in their own dormitories or hanging out in their friends’ rooms, so the bathroom was relatively empty when she arrived, which she was grateful for. She went into a stall, slipping out of her clothes and turning the hot water on until the steam clouded her body in a much welcomed embrace. Finally, she stepped into the water and let out a quiet hum of content as the water trickled down her body. She stood there, not moving, for a few minutes, her mind too muddled with a million thoughts to really do anything else.

She would never forget that first shower she took after the Battle of Hogwarts. The way the water spilling down her body trickled down in rivers of red, the blood of her friends and enemies alike dripping down her torso. Immediately after, she had gone outside and thrown up, even though there was little to nothing in her stomach at the time. 

The water now clear, though nearly every inch of her skin was a painful reminder of the horrors they had all endured. Scar tissue resided all along her body: from her legs to her sides to her back… Discolored lines were forever abundant on her otherwise olive skin. 

It was hard to believe. That she was really here, at the start of where all her problems began. And the root cause of such an unspeakable evil was merely on the other side of the castle while she was here washing off. 

She didn’t even feel anything as she clenched her fists so tight that her nails dug little crescent shaped craters into the palms of her hands. The faces of her fallen friends flashed through her mind, one by one, empty stare after empty stare and her breathing grew rugged as she thought about him. The way he sat amidst his peers, all of them oblivious to the monster that he would one day become. For all she knew, perhaps that monster is all he had ever been. Either way, she didn’t care. 

All she had to do was find out if he had already created any Horcruxes, and then she was going to kill him. She was going to kill him even if it was the last thing she ever did.


	3. Chapter 3

_ “You filthy little mudblood, tell me where the others are!”  _

_ “I told you, we don’t know!” Hermione said, her voice a mixture of a whimper and a sob. _

_ “Liar!”  _

_ Hermione screamed at the top of her lungs, but her voice was near giving out after hours of exhausting it. Avalon stared blankly as the angry wizard sliced into her friend’s skin, Hermione’s shrieks acting as the only distraction she had from her own pain.  _

_ Avalon’s right arm was bent at an unnatural angle, twisted behind her body as she lay on the ground, face shoved into the dark wood beneath them, head turned and forced to watch as her best friend struggled against the Death Eater’s blade. _

_ Avalon’s head was spinning after what felt like an eternity of being abused under the cruciatus curse. She barely noticed when Hermione’s screams finally came to a stop. Laying there, she thought that they may not make it out alive.  _

_ She wasn’t particularly afraid of dying. She used to be, but not anymore. After the Battle of Hogwarts, she learned that death would one day take them all. Perhaps she’d meet her loved ones again in the next life, and that thought comforted her to an extent.  _

_ “Are you ready to talk yet?” The Death Eater grunted, throwing Hermione back onto the ground with a harsh thud before turning his attention back to Avalon. He stormed over, yanking her hair back to raise her head just enough that her glossed over eyes met his. “Tell me where you lot are hiding the other mudbloods, and I’ll go easy on you.” Even if she had wanted to speak, she couldn’t. Her mind felt fried and her voice felt as broken as her bones. He rolled his eyes and shoved her head back onto the ground. “Fine, we’ll do this the hard way then.” _

_ Pain. _

_ His blade carved into her back in violent hacks, slicing her up letter by letter as he watched her blood seep out through her tattered shirt. Every letter he embedded into her skin hurt more than the last, but she stopped screaming after the first few letters, only able to whimper and wheeze after a while.  _

_ “Leave her alone!” she heard Hermione scream.. _

_ “Did I hear something?” he asked, shifting his gaze back to the sobbing witch on the ground. “I thought I heard a mudblood tell me what to do?” He stood up and pointed his wand at her. “Imperio!” _

_ Hermione tried to struggle against the Unforgivable curse, but she had been too weak to ward it off. All she could do was cry, quietly begging him to release her as he forced her to stand up and walk over to him and Avalon under the strain of the Imperius curse. With every forced step she took, she tried to fight off the curse, but the wizard had been too powerful and the spell took total control over her, ridding her of the ability to control her own actions. He was in total control of her, and she felt like a marionette being yanked forward by a deranged puppet master.  _

_ “Finish what I started,” he said, motioning towards Avalon’s bloody body on the ground.  _

_ Hermione’s tears poured down her cheeks as she tried to stop herself from kneeling down before her friend, but she couldn’t. Her fingers unwillingly picked up the blade he had discarded. She couldn’t stop herself as he flicked his wand towards Avalon, resulting in Hermione’s body jerking forward, despite her helpless struggles.  _

_ “Ava, I’m s-so s-sorry,” she sobbed as she watched herself continue to carve into her friend’s back the word that the Death Eater had started. She couldn’t watch herself do it, sobbing uncontrollably and shutting her eyes as her hands moved onwards, completely out of her own jurisdiction.  _

_ “I don’t know who’s more pathetic. The little mudblood, or her blood traitor friend.” _

_ Hermione felt powerless. It was impossible for her to listen to Avalon’s screams beneath her knowing that she was responsible for them. For the first time in her life, Hermione Granger felt completely and utterly helpless.  _

_ The laughter of the man behind them rang through both of their ears, the maniacal joy in his voice enough to drive both of them to madness. _

_ Tears poured out of both the girls’ eyes, but Avalon was growing dizzier and dizzier with every passing moment. Hermione tried not to stare at the blood seeping out of her friend’s bloodied shirt in the form of the word ‘TRAITOR.’  _

_ He finally released Hermione from the strain of the curse, and she felt herself crumple beside Avalon the moment she was free, both of their sobs blending into one indistinguishable sound.  _

_ “Now, which one of you is going to answer my damn question?” _

_ Avalon rolled her head to the side, locking eyes with her friend, but Hermione could tell that the Cruciatus curse’s effects still hadn’t worn off on her friend just by looking into her emptied out eyes. Avalon’s entire body was shuddering, blood pooling around her as she looked straight ahead, tears falling down her cheeks. _

_ “Fine, then. Maybe a little separation will do you two some good,” he grumbled, grabbing Hermione by her hair and dragging her away from Avalon.  _

_ Avalon parted her lips to try and call out for her friend, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t do anything. She just watched helplessly as he took Hermione away from her and into another room, listening as her friend’s screams started again shortly after.  _

_ And even though it burned her voice to make any noise, she screamed, too. _

“Avalon!”

She bolted upright, pointing her wand at the source of the noise. She always slept with her wand in her hand, just in case. It took her a moment to come back to her senses, dropping her wand when she saw Zelda’s startled face before her. 

She had to take deep breaths to calm down her breathing, her hands trembling from the memories haunting her sleep. 

Every time she closed her eyes, she had to relive that night. Every time she closed her eyes, she was forced to remember how Hermione’s screams echoed through the walls and there was nothing she could do about it. Every time she closed her eyes, she had to think about how her friend’s screams stopped so suddenly, that she knew that something had gone wrong. 

When they were finally rescued, it had been too late. 

They both made it out  _ alive _ , but Avalon was the only one who truly  _ lived _ after that. 

Zelda took ahold of Avalon’s hands, stroking her trembling fingers until they started to quell. “You were screaming in your sleep.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said, suddenly feeling embarrassed. 

“You don’t have to apologize,” said Zelda, offering a soft smile. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She did, but she knew she couldn’t so she shook her head. “No, but thank you.”

“We should probably get ready for classes then. I have Charms first. If I remember right, you have Defense Against the Dark Arts?”

“Yeah, I think so,” she nodded as she propped herself off the bed. She walked over to her cabinet and fished out her robes. 

“If you’d like, I can walk you to your first class. Mine is close to yours.”

“That would be nice,” she replied. She liked hearing Zelda’s voice. It was calming and free of any and all judgement. The way she carried herself with so much kindness and compassion really did remind her of Luna and she found herself finding comfort in her new roommate’s similarity to her friend.

Her fingers scrambled around her drawer until she fished out a uniform and she went into a corner to change, hoping that Zelda wouldn’t pay much attention to her and miss out on seeing the scars on her skin. She switched her clothes fast enough, and it seemed her friend was much too busy rearranging the pillows on her bed to take note of her. Once she had slipped on her robe, she ran over to the restroom really quickly, and then the two of them descended the tower and went towards their classes.

They walked without talking for a while, each of them preoccupied watching the other students scurry around the castle. The first day of classes always brought about an air of excitement throughout the castle walls, and today was no different. Students in their freshly pressed uniforms, carrying new books, and trying to make sure they were on time to impress their professors for the upcoming year all jumbled together to create a chaotic yet somehow tranquil atmosphere bustling throughout the grounds.

“So how are you liking Hogwarts so far?” Zelda asked her, disrupting their shared quiet.

“It seems very nice. I can tell I’ll like it here.”

“I’m sure you will. Good thing you came this year, though, and not last.”

“Why do you say that?”

A pensive look found rest on her face as she spoke. “Last year was tough for Hogwarts. A student was killed. She had been a Ravenclaw, actually.”

Avalon’s ears pricked, though she tried to look shocked. “Oh, that’s terrible. What happened?”

“Apparently one of the students had a pet spider that killed her. He was expelled,” she said, pausing. “I always felt like that wasn’t the whole truth, though.”

“Why do you say that?”

Zelda stopped walking, and Avalon looked around to notice that they were perched in front of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Her roommate’s eyes were fixed on something, and as she turned to follow her line of sight, her body tensed when she saw an all too familiar figure walk past them and into the classroom. 

She felt her fingers begin to tremble, again. His presence filled her with so much anger that she could barely contain herself.

Zelda watched as he walked into the room, her eyes narrowed on him as she spoke. “Just a feeling, I guess.” She sighed, shrugging her shoulders. “But, things are better now. And I know you’re going to love it here. I’ll see you next class, okay?”

“I’ll see you then,” she said, waving to her new friend before walking into the classroom. 

The class was halfway filled when she walked in. She felt dozens of eyes latch onto her as she entered.

She could see him talking to the two boys that were sitting on either side of him. The one to the left of him was dark skinned and muscular, with buzzed black hair and a silver chain dangling from his neck. He twisted his wand around in his hand as he spoke, not paying her any attention.

The other was a boy with long, curly brown hair and striking green eyes who was sitting back in his chair with one leg propped up enough to lean his arm against it, his body proudly spread out as he tilted his neck just enough to have his eyes slowly trail after Avalon as she walked by them. Their eyes caught and his lips twisted into a cocky smirk, though he refused to break their eye contact. 

Wedged between the two of them, was the devil himself. Cloaked in his Slytherin robes, a small Prefect pin adorned on the side. He whispered something to the boy on his left, who knowingly nodded. Riddle’s eyes were such a deep brown that she almost mistook them for black, and his features were carved to look like the marble statues that ancient civilizations mistook for gods. 

It was hard to believe that someone so outwardly beautiful harbored the most tarnished soul to have ever been created. He wore a golden ring with a black stone on the middle finger of his left hand and she watched as he played with it mindlessly. She sat two rows behind them, watching them from behind as the rest of the class piled in.

She kept thinking about his eyes. A part of her was relieved that he didn’t yet have the sickening crimson eyes that Voldemort would one day have. Those eyes haunted her. Disgusting red pools of hatred, devoid of emotion, devoid of remorse, devoid of humanity. 

The boy before her and the monster that had killed her friends really only had one thing in common: the coldness in their eyes. It was hard to miss. Several girls walked up to the three Slytherins before her and tried to get their attention. Of the three of them, the boy with the long brown hair seemed to be the only one truly interested in any of the women that approached them, yet Riddle was polite enough to entertain their greetings. 

He was charming, and by the looks of it, well-liked, though she wondered how nobody noticed how dull his eyes were. He could fake a charming smile, she would give him that, but he could not fake his interest. 

She was so focused on him that she barely noticed the two Hufflepuffs that sat next to her. It occurred to her that they only took the seats by her because all the other spots in the class were now taken.

Her attention shifted when she heard someone clear her throat from the front of the classroom. “Welcome, everyone, to Defense Against the Dark Arts. For those of you who may not know me, my name is Professor Merrythought,” she said, looking pointedly at Avalon. “We have a lot of things to cover, so I’m going to begin the class right away. Please open your books to page 193.”

There was an audible shuffling as students reached to pull out their textbooks and flip to the correct page. Avalon stared at the book, irritated as she looked at the title of the page. A slight scoff left her lips and she rolled her eyes, running a hand through her hair.

“Today we will be discussing Werewolves… Miss Hendrix, I believe your name is?” she said.

Avalon looked up from her book, nodding. “Yes, Professor?”

“Is the curriculum not to your liking?”

She tried wiping the look of annoyance off her face when she noticed all eyes in the class now glued to her, once more. “It’s just that… Werewolves? It seems a little mundane for a sixth year course, no?”

“I’m not sure how things are taught at Durmstrang, but here at Hogwarts we follow a strict schedule. So, if you could please keep your lack of amusement to yourself in the future, I will now start the lesson.”

“If I may, Professor…” she said. “There is a war raging through our world. Vold-... Grindelwald is murdering wizards and witches alike, and we need to know how to defend ourselves. The students deserve to have a right to know how to fight if the need arises, don’t you think?” She could hear quiet agreements arise from the students around her, but she internally groaned when she saw the look of anger written on her Professor’s face.

“Well, it seems we have ourselves quite the expert. Would you like to show the class how knowledgeable you are, since you seem so keen on leading this class?” Avalon bit her bottom lip, but the Professor motioned towards the front of the class. “Come on up, I insist.”

She sighed and got up, her chair screeching against the flooring as she shoved it back and walked to the front of the classroom. 

“Mr. Riddle, would you join our new student up front, please?”

Everyone in the class seemed to hold their breath as the Prefect nodded and gracefully stood up. His long haired friend to the side of him howled in laughter and spoke up. “Professor, come on. At least give her a fighting chance.”

“I believe since Miss Hendrix has so openly decided that she is the most suited for teaching this course, it is only fitting that she shows us her talents in a duel against one of our brightest students, don’t you agree, Mr. Lestrange?”

Avalon’s eyes narrowed on him at the mention of his last name. Lestrange. 

“Miss Hendrix, Mr. Riddle… You two will serve as the first duel of this class. Winner of the match will be awarded ten points for their house.”

Tom watched Avalon carefully, studying her movements before the duel even began. His gaze was unnerving, but she refused to look phased. The entire class watched them in anticipation, hushed whispers rattling the still room. 

Lestrange hollered out, “Go easy on her, Riddle!” 

He rolled his eyes, fiddling with the ring on his finger before taking it off and stashing it in his pocket, instead pulling out his wand. “Wands at the ready,” said their Professor. 

The two of them stood on opposite sides of the room, holding their wands and staring at each other as they awaited their signal to start. They locked eyes, and she felt her blood begin to boil in her veins, the desire for revenge coursing through her very soul from just the sight of the soon-to-be monster before her.

She wished she could kill him right then and there. She wished she could end his life and stop all the suffering he would one day cause. She wished she could see the reactions on her classmates faces when she shot the killing curse right at his face and she wished, more so than anything, that she could stand above his lifeless body and know that she had saved her friends from unspeakable suffering. 

But, she knew she couldn’t. Not only would she land herself in Azkaban for life, since she currently had no time turner and thus no way of getting home, but she would also risk her cover being blown if he had already made Horcruxes and didn’t die at her hands. 

She wished Harry hadn’t been so secretive about the Horcruxes. She knew Voldemort made several of them, but Harry never mentioned what they were, when they were made, or how to find them. For all she knew, Tom Riddle could have already made all of them, or perhaps he could have not made any at this point. It was impossible to tell. 

She would find out, somehow. And when she did, she would destroy each one of them before putting an end to his pathetic life. 

“You may begin,” said the Professor.

She wasted no time. “ _ Expelliarmus! _ ”

He dodged it with ease. The look of disappointment, of boredom, in his eyes bothered her.

She heard his voice for the first time when he yelled out, “ _ Carpe rectractum _ ,” and a rope-like stream of light shot out of his wand and wrapped itself around her wrist. He pulled his wand and she was yanked onto the ground, flying forward onto her knees as he stood there, unphased. She heard his friends laugh from their seats, cheering him on as a cocky smile found its way onto his smug lips. 

Her breathing was growing more and more rigid as she got back onto her feet, anger coursing through her in the form of power as she focused on the target before her, his coffee eyes taunting her as they almost invited her to dare try another spell.

“ _ Stupefy _ ,” she shouted, though he dodged it just as easily as he dodged her first spell. Perhaps it was naive of her to underestimate his talents, though seeing him so easily dodge her attacks still vexed her. 

He didn’t miss a beat and flicked his wand in her direction, not uttering a single word yet managing to throw her body back until she slammed into a desk behind her, an hourglass atop it tumbling to the ground and shattering into a million pieces of mixed sand and shards of broken glass.

She felt a sharp pain well into her head as her skull collided with the solid furniture, hearing a crack that she wasn’t sure belonged to her bones or the wood of the desk. A low groan escaped her lips as she moved her neck, equal parts relieved that her bones were still intact and also furious that she hadn’t assumed he would have already been skilled in wordless magic. She didn’t let that phase her, though. The class around them started to fade to nothingness around her as she narrowed her eyes on him. It felt as though time stopped the second the hourglass broke. 

It was just the two of them, standing before each other, waiting to see who would crumble first. He started to take a few steps towards her, growing bolder with his actions as he prematurely decided on his victory. The professor was watching them carefully, though it was easy to realize which student she was personally rooting for as a faint smile painted onto her features as Avalon let out another hiss of pain as she shook her head to quell the ringing in her ears.

“ _ Locomotor, _ ” she said under her breath. The shards of broken glass began to levitate into the air and Tom stared at it for a moment before he realized what she was doing. As she flicked her wand towards him, the shattered hourglass flew at him at lightning speed, and he just barely had time to throw up a shield to defend himself. 

Her eyes lit up when she saw one of the shards fly past his line of defense and rip through the sleeve of his robe, a thin strip of crimson pouring out of the torn flesh beneath and a quiet hiss escaping his mouth as his other arm shot up to grab the new injury. 

He moved his hand off the cut and stared at his newly bloodied fingers before returning his stare to her. She could swear she saw his eyes grow darker before he cast his next spell.

“ _ Silencio! _ ” he shouted, though she didn’t hear his spell over the sound of his friends cheering him on.

Their laughter once again rang through her ears. Every time he did anything, she heard muttering echo through the rest of the class. It was as if they all waited to shower him with praise. He was like a deity to them and she hated it.

But, when she opened her mouth to throw another spell, she found her voice failed her and she bit her lip, realizing he attempted to mute her. 

A smile crept onto her face. If she could make noise, she would have been laughing. He watched her, curious, as she tried to hide her amusement at the silly silencing charm he had cast on her.

She took a step towards him and he took a step back, the distance between them remaining constant as they battled for dominance of the room. The class watched them curiously, some students leaning over their desks to get a better view of the two dueling before them. 

She bit her lip before winking at him and mouthing, ‘Nice try,’ earning another amused look shot her way. 

All she wanted was to wipe that cocky little smirk off of his lips. So she quickly slashed her wand through the air, so rapidly that he barely saw it happen. But, as he raised his hand to the point of his cheekbone, his fingers felt the warmth of his own blood pooling out of the gash on his face. 

It was at that moment Tom realized that he was not the only one skilled in wordless magic. 

His surprise stunned him for a second, and she took that as an opportunity to strike again, flicking her wand once more in his direction and throwing his body back with a gust of wind that slammed him into the wall behind him with a loud ‘thud’ that rattled the entire class. 

His body slumped with discomfort as he raised his eyes to meet hers, bits of debris around him clouding the air. He expected her to look apologetic, or perhaps even worried. But the girl standing before him was anything but sorry.

It was as though he could practically hear her laughter even though no sounds were leaving her mouth. A smile so wide that he was sure it was hurting her cheeks was plastered onto her face, her eyes wild with a maniacal lust for blood that he had thought he had only ever seen in his own reflection. 

For the first time, he felt oddly impressed by his opponent. 

Though, he wouldn’t let that distract him. He got back to his feet, rechanneling his focus. He’d be damned if he let her land another blow to him. 

Seeing him in pain brought an odd sense of satisfaction to her. All she could think about is how she would one day feel when she hunched over his lifeless body, knowing that she had defeated the devil himself. 

He spoke his next spell, though it was muttered too quietly for her to hear. The class watched as Avalon’s eyes began to roll to the back of her head, the whites of her eyes being the only part showing as she gasped for air. 

Her vision went blurry, and then, just like that, it was back. But, something was wrong. 

When her eyes finally landed on the scene before her, she let out a scream so loud that it shattered through the silencing spell he had cast on her, filling the ears of her classmates with the sound of heartbreak. 

“No, no, no, please speak to me!” she wailed as she fell to her knees in the center of the class. 

Nobody else in the room could see Harry’s lifeless body before her, but as she reached out and touched his cold hand, it felt so real to her that she let out another soul-crushing shriek. 

Tom watched as her white eyes filled with tears and he wondered what she was seeing after being put under the effects of his spell. It showed the victim their worst memory, and his curiosity was getting the best of him as she shook the empty ground before her, sobbing out one name over and over again.

“Harry,” she cried. “Harry, please look at me.”

He looked over at their Professor, who looked nearly ready to intervene, but Avalon’s eyes finally tore away from the scene before her and the color of her pupils slowly became visible again as she focused on Tom. He had never seen someone look at him with such a look of hatred before, but as her tear-stained cheeks flushed red with anger, he was almost worried from how she seared with power. 

“How fucking dare you!” she yelled at him, lunging at him so quickly that she was able to press her wand into the skin on his neck with ease. Her eyes bore into his and she channeled all of her energy into another wordless spell, watching as the veins under his eyes turned black under her command. 

He felt dark magic coursing through him as she shoved her wand further and further into his skin, but he felt incapacitated as his body started to burn from within. A single tear fell from his eyes, though as it fell to the floor, he noticed it wasn’t just any tear. 

He was crying blood.

His throat felt as though it was on fire and a metallic taste rose to his mouth as he tried to contain the desire to cough, positive that he would sputter red drops onto the floor if he did. Her hazel eyes were so devoid of emotion that he could have sworn they belonged to an animal, and for a moment, she could have sworn she saw a flash of fear in his stare. 

She had him right where she wanted him, and she refused to let go. 

“Miss Hendrix, enough!” yelled the Professor, but she ignored the plea for mercy and pressed harder into his skin, causing him to choke out a strained breath. “Miss Hendrix, I said  _ enough _ !”

He used every ounce of strength he had within him to swipe his wand to the side, and he heard a ‘snap’ followed by a pained gasp as her arm bent backwards, the bone breaking under his command, causing her to lose her control over the spell she had on him.

They each took a step back from each other, but only a moment later, they both raised their wands again. 

Professor Merrythought raised her own wand and disarmed the both of them. “I said that is  _ enough _ ! Both of you.” She hurried over and stood between them, her eyes livid. “I will not have students killing each other in my classroom. Five points from Ravenclaw and Mr. Riddle, I am incredibly disappointed in you, too.”

Avalon felt her breathing start to return to normal as she bent down and picked up her wand, wincing in pain as her broken arm shifted a little bit with her movement. Her eyes met his one more time, and she was surprised to see his stare mirrored the same intensity that burned within her.

It wasn’t until then that she noticed the wide eyes and hanging jaws from the rest of their classmates. Even Riddle’s own friends had been stunned into silence. There were no hushed whispers, no muffled laughter, just absolute disbelief at the scene that had unraveled before them.

“Both of you, go to the infirmary. I trust you won’t kill each other on your way there,” Merrythought said, her voice dripping with disappointment.

Tom used the back of his hand to wipe the blood off of his face before he started making his way towards the door, motioning for her to follow him. She did so, reluctantly, but her movements were rugged as she attempted to keep her arm as still as possible as she trudged after her opponent. 

They walked alongside each other without saying a word until he finally spoke. “You’re not a terrible duelist.” She eyed him with so much disgust that he couldn’t help but laugh. “Did you learn to fight that way at Durmstrang?” She would not answer him. So, he tried again, this time with a hint of a smile on his lips. “My name is Tom, by the way. Tom Riddle. I don’t believe we have formally met, yet. If I recall correctly, your name was Avalon, correct?”

She looked straight ahead as she nodded, refusing to meet his eyes. 

“I’m sorry about your arm,” he said, though she didn’t sense any actual remorse in his words. He found himself growing irritated at how she avoided his gaze, though he masked it with a tight-lipped smile. His fingers dug their way into his pocket and he slipped his ring back onto his middle finger, twisting it as they walked. 

He seemed almost surprised when she spoke to him. “Sorry about the bloody eye.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen that spell before,” he said, hoping she would tell him more. A part of him wondered why she was so closed off to him. It was as though she hated him before even meeting him, and while he didn’t care for her views on him, it angered him that she wasn’t giving him the information he desired. He was already tired of her stand-offish attitude, but he did his best to act nice for the sake of charming her into speaking. 

She thought about how he looked with blood seeping down his cheeks. It was satisfying, to say the least. It was a spell that the Death Eaters had used on her before. She picked it up and perfected it, making sure that when the time came for her to face one of them again, she’d be ready. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen some of yours, either,” she said. “If I’m not mistaken, you’re versed in dark magic.” Her eyes narrowed on his, both of them forcing smiles that hurt their lips to upkeep.

He tried to mask the annoyance in his eyes when she maneuvered the conversation back to being about him. “I guess that makes two of us then.”

She hadn’t realized they had arrived at the entrance to the infirmary. He opened the door, motioning for her to enter, and she did.

He looked around. “Madame Bardot?”

The nurse stuck her head out from behind a divider and her eyes nearly bulged out of her head when she saw the two of them walk in.

“Dear Heavens, what happened to the two of you?” she asked, scurrying over to them quickly.

“Just a friendly duel,” Avalon said, sarcasm dripping off her tongue. 

The nurse sighed, shaking her head. “Sit, my dear,” she said, motioning to Tom.

He sighed, rolling his eyes. “I’m okay, really.” Avalon could tell he didn’t want to be there, and his displeasure gave her a small ounce of pleasure.

The nurse disregarded his words and waved her wand at him a couple of times, the dried blood on his face fading to nothingness and the bloodshot veins in his eyes dulling back to white before she turned her attention to the cuts on his cheek and arm. It didn’t take her very long to patch him up.

“Thank you. I’ll be heading back to class now, if that’s alright with you,” he said, nodding to the nurse before stepping out of the room, not bothering to speak to Avalon again.

“Your turn, dearest. I didn’t get your name, I’m sorry,” the woman said.

“Avalon Hendrix,” she said with a soft smile.

“Well, Miss Hendrix, let me get you all fixed up.” She flicked her wand at Avalon’s arm and it snapped back into place with a quick, yet mildly uncomfortable, crack. “Is there anything else you need me to patch up?”

“No, that’s really all. Thank you.”

“Be careful, sweetheart. I hope to not see you back in here again,” she said, her eyes shining as she allowed Avalon to get up and leave. 

By the time she was out, she was running a few minutes late for her next class: Potions. She scurried across the castle grounds, trying to slide past countless students in the halls as she made her way over to the class. 

When she got there, she opened the door to find the class already full. Slughorn was at the front of the class, and his sentence trailed off when she walked in. He looked so young, yet still so much like himself that she found herself letting out a sigh of relief at the sight of another familiar face. 

“Ah, you must be the new student, Miss Hendrix. Now, now, please take a seat. We are just about to discuss how to make an Elixir to induce Euphoria.” 

She made her way to the back of the class to take the last remaining seat. Zelda smiled at her and gave her a little wave, her smile a nice sight to see in the front row. Riddle was in the class too, and he smiled smugly as she walked by, though his eyes didn’t meet hers. He was sitting next to one of his friends, but the seat she had to take was right next to the other one, Lestrange.

She sat down next to him and stared straight ahead at Slughorn but his eyes burned holes into the side of her head. “Quite a show you and Riddle put on last class.”

Her neck turned just enough to look at him, and she saw him look her up and down slowly, his lips twisted into a cocky grin. “I’m Xavier Lestrange.”

“Nice to meet you,” she said.

“The pleasure is all mine,” he replied before leaning close to her, his breath hitting her ear before he spoke. “Don’t tell him I said this, but I’d say you won that duel.” He smelled of cigarettes and expensive cologne, but he reeked of arrogance more than anything else.

“Mr. Lestrange, is there something you’d like to share with the rest of the class?” Slughorn asked.

Lestrange lingered close to her for a few moments before he relaxed his body back into his seat, smiling lazily at the professor. “Not particularly, sir.”

“Then I suggest you keep the chit chat to yourself.”

He waited for the lesson to resume before he whispered to her, “But where’s the fun in that?”

She was painfully aware of the way he watched her like he was eyeing his prey, and she didn’t think he cared to hide it. He had his sights set on her, and wasn’t afraid to show it. Just from the way he carried himself with an unapologetic confidence, she could tell he had a record of years and years of getting exactly whatever he set his sights to. The golden rings he wore on his hands were encrusted with more gems that she could count, and it was obvious he was one of Hogwarts’ wealthier students. She wondered when the last time he didn’t get what he wanted was.

“Let me show you around Hogwarts tonight,” he said. He wasn’t really asking, though he awaited her response, anyway. 

It occurred to her that he might be a good way to learn more about Riddle. If she was going to go through with her mission, she would have to start putting herself out there and getting to know the boy. So, despite what her heart was telling her, she turned and smiled. “That sounds great.”

His cocky grin made another appearance. “Great, I’ll wait for you at the bottom of Ravenclaw Tower. Meet me at 8.”

“Miss Hendrix. Mr. Lestrange. I won’t ask you to be quiet again,” Slughorn warned.

“Sorry, Professor,” they said in unison. 


	4. Chapter 4

Riddle sat on the armchair in the Slytherin common room, his fingers fidgeting with the ring on his finger as he stared at the space before him. Rosier was sitting on the couch to his side, muttering quiet incantations under his breath as he attempted to practice new spells he learned about through a seventh year Hufflepuff. 

Tom didn’t pay him much attention, his mind was too busy thinking about a million other things. Only one thing that mattered, though. 

The weight of the diary sitting on his lap felt like a ton of lead, its presence nearly suffocating him as he rehearsed his plan for the night over and over again in his mind for the millionth time. He wasn’t afraid. This was the second Horcrux he would be creating, the first being his ring. He knew what he was getting himself into, but he’d be lying to himself if he said he looked forward to the night that lay ahead. 

“Alright, lads, how do I look?” Lestrange asked as he waltzed into the common room dressed in black from head to toe. He shoved a hand through his hair, looking at himself in the gilded mirror and grinning. “I already know I look good, but I’d love to hear you both agree.”

“I’m still surprised she agreed to go with you,” Rosier said, his eyes only barely flickering towards Lestrange. 

“What can I say? I’m irresistible,” Lestrange shrugged as he undid the top three buttons on his shirt. “That’s better.”

Tom heard the sound of heels clattering across the floor and he internally groaned as Nott’s girlfriend stormed up to them. 

“Where’s Axel?” she asked, her shrill voice instantly giving him a headache as she impatiently tapped her foot. Her blonde hair was perfectly curled and she wore a brand new red dress that matched the color of her painted lips which were turned into an aggravated scowl.

“Well, hello to you, too, Greengrass,” Lestrange said, rolling his eyes.

She opened her mouth to say something back but the sound of the entrance opening caused her to spin around and see Nott and Mulciber walk towards them, their Quidditch uniforms drenched in sweat. “There you are! You’re 15 minutes late,” she said, running to Nott. 

Mulciber side-stepped just in time, dodging a collision with the petite blonde as she threw herself into her boyfriend’s arms. Nott smiled down at her and kissed her nose before speaking. “I’m sorry, love. Tryouts ran long. I just have to clean up and get dressed and we can go, alright?” 

It was hard for Tom to not show his distaste for the couple. Nott’s greatest weakness was his love for the girl. He bent over backwards for her, even though she was insufferable to be around, and it would one day be his own downfall. 

Love was a weapon used against the weak. Tom found himself gripping his diary even tighter as he watched the couple whisper sweet nothings into each others’ ears, Rosalie biting her bottom lip to suppress her smile as Nott picked her up and spun her around. 

“Where’s Avery?” Rosier asked.

“He’s helping one of the fourth years with some pointers to make the team,” Mulciber replied. 

“Why are you all dressed up?” Nott asked, shifting his attention to Lestrange.

“I’m giving the new Ravenclaw a tour of the castle,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“So you’re taking her to the greenhouse like you do every other girl you want to bed?” Mulciber said, holding back a laugh. 

“Why let go of a winning strategy?” Lestrange winked. “By the way, Rosier, make sure you’re out of our room when I get back. Going to need some…privacy.”

“There’s no way she’s going to fall for it,” Rosier said.

“That’s what you say every time, and yet, I never fail to surprise you, do I?” 

“She’s mental, though,” Rosier said, laughing. “Nott, Mulciber,” he looked at their seventh year friends, waiting for them to pay attention to him. “You two should have seen her duel Riddle today in Defense Against the Dark Arts. The girl is psychotic.”

“What makes you say that?” Mulciber asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Her eyes went feral. It was like she was possessed. Talented at nonverbal spells, too. I swear, if Riddle hadn’t snapped her arm at the end, she would have tried to kill him right then and there,” Rosier said.

“You snapped her arm?” Nott asked, looking at Riddle.

“She’s lucky that’s all I did,” he said, looking up from the diary with a cold stare. “She’s strong, but far too emotional for her own good.”

“So you’re trying to court a murderous witch with a hot temper and no impulse control?” Nott said, not attempting to hide his smirk.

“I’ll try anything once,” Lestrange said with a grin. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, boys. I have to get going.” He gave them a wave before walking out of the common room and heading towards Ravenclaw Tower. 

Nott’s girlfriend let out an exasperated sigh and tugged at the sleeve of his Quidditch jumper. “Can you please hurry up? We have class tomorrow and I don’t want to be out too late.”

He nodded but didn’t move. “Who thinks he’s actually going to succeed tonight?”

“Absolutely no chance,” Rosier said. “I’ll bet you 50 galleon that he’ll fail.”

“You’re on. I hate to admit it, but he’s such a sleaze that I wouldn’t be surprised if she fell for it,” Mulciber chimed in.

“My vote is a very hesitant yes, though I’d love to see the bastard fail for once. He could use some humbling,” Nott said before nodding towards Tom. “Riddle, what do you think?”

Tom shrugged, his face stoic as he looked dead ahead. “I couldn’t care less, either way.”

Rosier laughed. “You’re just mad she kicked your ass in class.”

Tom raised an eyebrow, shooting a pointed glare at the boy. The smile instantly wiped off Rosier’s face while he nervously swallowed the lump of air that had risen in the back of his throat as he shrunk under the weight of Tom’s stare. 

A few seconds ticked by and nobody spoke, not even Nott’s unbearable girlfriend. Tom thought about a million ways he could teach Rosier a lesson. He didn’t like being talked back to, let alone in front of the others. Power coursed through his veins and he watched as Rosier squirmed under his gaze, an unsettling smile etching onto his own lips as he stood up and slowly made his way over to Rosier. His wand was wedged between his fingers and he spun it around lazily, pointing it in Rosier’s direction as he crouched down to be eye level with the nervous boy. “Come again?”

Rosier’s eyes avoided Tom’s. He just stared at the ground before him as a bead of sweat started to form on his forehead. The other boys watched in silence, neither one daring to intervene. 

The sound of Avery opening the entrance to the common room and walking in with an exasperated sigh distracted Tom, and he stood back up, causing everyone else in the room to let out a breath that they hadn’t realized they were holding in. 

Avery plopped himself onto the couch, oblivious to the scene that had been unraveling before he’d walked in. He tore his Quidditch jumper over his head and used it as a towel to wipe the sweat off his forehead before beginning to ramble on about how tired he was after tryouts.

Tom didn’t bother to stay around to listen. His hands grabbed the diary off the couch once more and headed to his dorm. He had no time to waste. It was time to focus. 

Avalon stared at the hands on the clock as they danced dangerously close to 8 o’clock. She knew she had to go downstairs soon, but a part of her wanted to stay hidden in the safety of the tower and just forget about her nighttime plans. 

She had to get close to Lestrange. It was her best shot at getting more information about Riddle, she knew that. But, it was, nonetheless, difficult to convince herself that she should actually go down and get on with the night. 

She had taken a quick trip down to the Room of Requirement earlier and, thankfully, been able to find several clothing items that didn’t consist of simple Hogwarts uniforms. It felt silly to stand before the entrance and will the room to fill with clothes, but she did what had to be done and sucked up her pride so she could get a new, more appropriate wardrobe. 

Her reflection in the mirror looked foreign to her, but, admittedly, the 1940s fashion was starting to grow on her. She was dressed in an ankle length lavender dress and had brushed back her long black hair, its usual unruliness quelled for the evening. All in all, she didn’t think she looked half bad, and the dress did cover the scars on her skin, so she couldn’t complain too much. 

With a final deep breath, she grabbed her wand, stashed it into the small pockets in her dress, and began her descent down Ravenclaw Tower. Her footsteps echoed as her tiny heels collided with the stone stairwell, filling her ears with just enough noise to numb her nerves a bit. She wasn’t sure why she was so jittery, but she couldn't seem to shake it off no matter how hard she tried.

When she got to the bottom of the tower, she exited and was immediately greeted by the sight of Lestrange’s figure perched atop the nearest ledge. He didn’t notice her at first, as he was busy staring off into the distance at the view of the mountains afar, so she approached him quietly, inspecting him closely.

He was dressed in all black, though he had on the same golden jewelry from before. His long hair was tucked behind his ears, exposing his sharp features to the moonlight above. She had to admit that he looked handsome, though in the same way one appreciates the glow of a fire: bright, beautiful, yet still, at its core, dangerous and untamed. 

He turned around when he heard the tapping of her footsteps behind him and his cheeks lit up with a smile as he took ahold of her hand and without waiting for her to register what he was doing, twirled her around as he whistled. “My, my. Don’t you look absolutely beautiful.”

She forced a smile, knowing she had to get on his good side if she wanted him to reveal hints about Riddle. “Thank you, you look great yourself.”

“Why thank you. And I brought this for you,” he said as he held out a single white rose from behind his back, looking into her eyes as though asking for permission before she nodded and he tucked the flower behind her ear, perching it into her hair before extending his arm out for her to latch onto. She wove her arm into his, a little reluctantly, but he didn’t seem to mind. “I hope you’re ready to see Hogwarts like you’ve never seen her before because I have quite the night planned.” 

“Oh, is that so?”

“Indeed so. If you would please follow me, the tour will begin shortly,” he said, leading her along the cobblestone corridor alongside the castle. “To your left you will see many of the portraits of wizards and witches that lived and breathed in this same castle, long before either you or I were alive.”

She stared at all the moving paintings, each of them busy in conversation with the portrait to their side, paying little attention to the two of them walking beneath them.

“You didn’t hear it from me, but if you ever need to make a quick run for it, the painting of the woman over there,” he motioned to a sleeping woman dressed in all red, “will open up to a hidden corridor if you tell her that the ghosts from the Shrieking Shack escaped and are out to get her.”

She let out a small laugh and he took it like a drug, smirking to himself at the sound of her giggle as he continued to lead them down the path. He opened the door for them, leading them outside past the bell towers. “If you ever want a great view of the grounds, the Bell Towers are a great place to go.”

She shook her head. “Ravenclaw Tower has the nicest view in the castle.”

“Then perhaps you can show it to me some time,” he said with a cheeky wink. She felt her cheeks flush red, but once again, he didn’t seem to mind nor care. 

The air was cool against her skin, but the heat of Lestrange’s body warded off the night chills as they strode under the pale moonlight. She noticed how his eyes gleamed a bright green when in the light and she almost got caught staring when he suddenly turned his head to watch her. “I must say, for someone who duels her peers near to death, you are being awfully shy right now.”

“I’m just speechless by how good of a guide I have,” she said, her voice sickeningly sweet to her own ears. She barely listened to him as he continued to chatter, taking her slight compliment as a stroke to his ego and continuing on with his incessant tour. She batted her eyes at him and flashed her sweetest smile. “Tell me about yourself.”

“I’m an open book, love. What do you want to know?”

“Everything. Tell me who Xavier Lestrange is.”

He straightened his back, enjoying the opportunity to boast about himself. “Xavier Lestrange is a devilishly handsome student at Hogwarts. He prefers night to day, his favorite season is Autumn, he will one day run his family business, hopes to own a fleet of pet Hippogriff, believes Butterbeer is terribly over-hyped, and thinks he’s currently looking at the most beautiful girl he has ever laid his eyes on,” he said as he looked at her. His words seemed rehearsed, like he had said them a million times before, but he was charming nonetheless. She just wondered how many girls had fallen victim to that same charm before her. 

She forced out a giggle, indulging his self-confidence as she steered the conversation to where she needed it to go. “You seem very close with your friends, too.” 

“They’re like brothers to me.”

“How did you meet them?”

He paused, thinking. “All of them or just the ones you’ve seen in class so far?”

“All of them,” she shrugged.

“Well, Rosier and I have been friends practically since before we were born. Our families are incredibly close. We’ve spent summers in Paris together for as long as I can remember. His mother is friends with Mulciber’s mother, so when the two of us started at Hogwarts our first year, she introduced us to him so he could sort of show us around, because he’s a year older than us. He’s how I grew close with his two friends: Nott, and Avery.”

“And Riddle?”

He laughed. “Riddle…he and I met on the Hogwarts Express our first year. He sat with Rosier and I. Didn’t say a word the entire ride. Almost thought he was dead at one point.”

“Are you close with him?”

“Why? Do  _ you  _ want to be?” he retorted, raising an eyebrow.

She laughed. “Not even in the slightest.”

“Good,” he replied, his ever-present smirk returning to his lips. “I’d lay my life down for any one of them, Riddle included, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Didn’t pin you as the valiant type.”

“You’ll soon learn that I am full of surprises,” he said, stopping as they approached the entrance to the greenhouse. He opened the door and stood to the side, waiting on her to enter. “After you.”

She stepped in and he followed shortly after, shutting the door behind them and trapping them beneath the glass planes of the moonlit room. 

“I have Herbology here,” she noted, pointing out that his tour wasn’t as exclusive as he had made it out to be. 

“There’s more to this place than meets the eyes,” he mused, striding over to the countless pots on the perched window. Her eyes began to widen as he grabbed a potted Mandrake and began twirling its leaves around his finger lazily. “Have you ever heard a Mandrake’s wail?”

“With ear muffs on, yes,” she said, trying to grab the pot away from him. He raised it above his head, laughing. “Put it away, Lestrange, that’s dangerous.”

“I don’t buy that someone like you is afraid of a little crying plant,” he said, spinning around and dodging her reach as his hands clamped over the plant’s leaves and he threatened to yank it out. 

“Stop!” she screamed, wishing he wasn’t so damn tall that he could just hoist the pot out of her reach every time she tried to steal it away. “I’m not kidding-”

“Better cover your ears,” he said, barely giving her enough time to throw her hands over her ears and clamp her eyes tightly shut, bracing herself for the horrific noise, before he yanked the leaves out of the pot.

Surprisingly, she heard no cries. All she heard was the sound of his laughter filling the room as he failed to contain even a fragment of his amusement. In his hands were the remnants of a chopped up Mandrake. “Relax, love, it’s only the leaves.”

She walked closer to see him just in time to witness him dump the remainder of the soil out of the pot, revealing a skillfully hidden bottle of firewhiskey. “Very funny,” she grumbled, slapping him lightly across the arm.

He just chuckled, shrugging as he took his wand out and muttered a quick ‘ _ aguamenti _ ’ to stream water onto the bottle and wash the debris off. “Ladies first,” he said, holding the bottle out to her. She was reluctant to grab the bottle from him and he noticed her hesitation. “Fine, fine. I’ll get the ball rolling.” The bottle was raised to his lips and he let the burning liquid glide down his throat as he took a swig that seemed like it lasted for an eternity. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand, his lip sucked in between his bottom teeth as he smiled. “C’mon, love, don’t make me drink alone.” She tried to remind herself that he needed to like her if she was ever going to succeed in getting information out of him, so she sighed and took the bottle from his hands, earning a quiet, “Atta girl,” from him while he eyed her taking a sip from the bottle. “Now just a little more,” he said, lifting the bottle back to her lips as she started to put it down. 

The drink burned her insides as it made its way down her pipes, causing her to make a disgusted face when she finally handed him the bottle back. “That is vile,” she grumbled, shaking her head in nausea.

“That’s the price of a fun night.” He hopped onto the ledge of a windowsill, reaching down and grabbing her hand before hoisting her up with him. “Dance with me.”

She didn’t have time to object. He spun her around and dipped her down, smiling at her when he hovered above her. The warm humidity of the greenhouse basked their skin with a dewy glow and she felt her cheeks flushing red from the heat of the drinks.

He continued taking swigs of the drink as they swayed to the silence, offering her the bottle after each drink he took. She objected the first few times, but his persistence was infectious and her willpower eventually gave way despite her brain reminding her to be weary. Her logical side screamed at her, though it was counteracted by the tiny part of her that kept insisting that the best way to get to Riddle was through his friends.

The rest of the castle felt so far away. They danced for a few minutes, both of them struggling to hold back their laughter as they messily twirled together. He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ears. “Would you be mad at me if I told you the firewhiskey is charmed to be extra potent?”

The answer should have been yes. Though, her mind was foggy and her thoughts were already jumbled, so she just threw her head back and laughed. “You’re a cheeky son of a bitch, you know that, right?”

“Language, Hendrix. Language,” he scolded her, grinning. His eyes locked with hers and he bit his bottom lip, trying to hold back his drunken laughter. “Come on, I still have more to show you.”

He jumped off the ledge and gently grabbed her by the waist, helping her down until her feet landed on the ground with a quiet thud. She felt dizzy. She didn’t know how she let herself end up in this situation, but her thoughts were too hazy to make a fuss out of it. 

This was all necessary collateral to get to know more about Tom, she kept telling herself. 

He grabbed the firewhiskey, occasionally taking swigs from it as the two of them exited the greenhouse, their footsteps sloppy as they kept bumping into one another. Lestrange reached out and held her hand. He hadn’t been sure if she would allow it, but was surprised when he felt her fingers wrap with his. 

The night was going better than he had thought it would, he had to admit. 

He led them to the boathouse at the base of the castle by The Great Lake and sat down on a boulder with a view of the starlit water, patting the area next to him for her to sit. She walked over, her footsteps heavy and ungraceful, before plopping down by him. “It’s so peaceful,” she said, her voice quiet.

“This is my favorite place to come and think at night.”

“And what do you think about?”

His gaze fixated on her lips when he replied, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I would, actually.”

“You’re not nearly drunk enough for me to admit my thoughts to you,” he said, holding the bottle beneath her nose. She rolled her eyes and took another drink, finding it harder and harder to concentrate with every sip she took. The warm liquid made her head spin, but she tried to remain focused enough to persist in her quest to get close to the boy sitting before her. She opened her mouth to ask him something but her attention shifted all too quickly.

She heard footsteps from behind them and whipped her head around to see a lantern floating towards them. Her eyes squinted, trying to see who was running towards them.

“Lestrange? Is that you again?” 

Xavier rolled his eyes, taking her hand and pulling her up. “It’s just the groundskeeper.”

“I thought I told you to stop coming out here past curfew!” yelled the man as he ran towards them.

The dark haired boy dragged her into the boathouse with him, looking over his shoulder as the lantern got closer and closer. “Do you trust me?”

“Not particularly, no.”

“Well, then that’s too bad,” he said before picking her up and placing her into one of the boats, tossing the bottle in after her and then instantly shoving it into the water, hoisting it into the lake. 

“Xavier I swear-”

He was to his knees in water as he pushed the boat further and further into the dark lagoon, blowing a kiss to the groundskeeper over his shoulder before he jumped into the boat, nearly rocking it over with the shift in weight. He pulled his wand out of his pocket and pointed at the water, whispering a spell under his breath and causing the boat to propel forward, leaving the groundskeeper on the shore, yelling a string of profanities after them. 

Avalon stared at the soaking wet boy sitting on the opposite side of the boat and couldn’t help but laugh. “You are ridiculous.” 

He rolled his eyes, pointing his wand at his clothes and drying himself off. “Is that how you thank the man who just saved you from a week’s worth of detention?”

“I’m not going to thank you for getting me out of a situation you put me in,” she retorted, shaking her finger in his face.

He pretended to look shocked. “Not even an ounce of praise?”

“Not even a smidge.”

“Maybe I should just,” he shifted his weight so the boat rocked, “flip the boat then.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Are you insinuating I’m a liar?” 

“I’m insinuating that you care too much about your hair to tip the boat over.”

“You already know me so well,” he laughed, leaning back against the wooden rim, watching her as the wind blew them further and further into the lake. “And yet, I still know so little about you.”

She bit the inside of her cheek, but shrugged. “What do you want to know?”

“All of it. Every detail. Enlighten me, darling.”

“There’s really not much to say.”

“I know that’s not true. Tell me your favorite color. Tell me about your dreams. Tell me what your favorite food is. Anything.”

“Well…blue, like the ocean. I dream of...” She paused. She only dreamed of seeing her friends again. “Peace. An end to the war. My favorite food is just toast with butter and honey, I don’t know why.”

“What makes you happy?”

“My friends and family.”

“What makes you sad?”

“Death,” she said, a little too quickly.

“Are you happy right now?”

“I’ve been worse off.” He grinned at her answer.

“How did you end up at Hogwarts?”

She paused for a moment. “Well, with the war raging on, my aunt thought it was best if I came here. Dumbledore is the only wizard strong enough to defeat Grindelwald, so it seemed safer,” she lied.

“Do you live with your aunt?”

“My parents died when I was young,” she said, honestly. “I don’t even remember them, really. So, yeah, my mother’s sister raised me.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, but his words were flat. 

She shrugged. “Shit happens.”

He looked amused. “You have a sailor’s mouth.”

“So I’ve been told,” she retorted, earning a low chuckle from him. 

“Did you like Durmstrang?”

“Uh,” she thought about it for a second, not sure how to steer the conversation away from the school she had never attended. Aside from what little knowledge she had gotten about Durmstrang through Hermione and Victor Krum’s short lived fourth year romance, she really didn’t know too much about the school. “It was fine, yeah. I think I’ll prefer Hogwarts, though.”

“Must have been nice not having any mudbloods at the school, though,” he said with a laugh.

The word slid off his tongue so easily that it made her shudder.

He just kept speaking, oblivious to her shock. “So I take it your aunt is a witch?” She nodded, but couldn’t bring herself to speak, anymore. He was focused on his questions, making sure he still asked what he wanted to know despite the alcohol hindering his sleuthing skills. “And your dad’s side?”

“Wizards, too,” she muttered. It was a lie. Her father had been muggle-born, but suddenly, floating in the middle of the expansive lake in a tiny wooden boat with him did not seem like the time to admit she wasn’t a pureblood. His eyes seemed to light up at the admission of her blood status and he nodded, satisfied with the answer he had received. 

She involuntarily clutched the wooden seat underneath her, trying to cease the trembling arising in her bones. He saw her fingers shaking and raised an eyebrow. “Are you cold?” She shook her head, but he moved over to her side, making sure not to rock the boat as he occupied the seat beside her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, rubbing her arms to provide her with heat. Her body froze at his touch, her mind still clouded from the alcohol yet clarity in judgement prevailing with his proximity. 

She shifted uncomfortably at his touch and he raised an eyebrow, not used to getting that reaction from women. He decided to change the subject again. “So, how did you become such a skilled duelist?”

“Durmstrang,” she replied shortly.

“Oh come on, I know they teach the Dark Arts, but there’s no way you learned all of that in a classroom.”

She shrugged. “There’s a war going on. I think we should learn as much as we can to be ready for anything that comes our way.”

“Maybe I could get some lessons from you then, Professor,” he said.

“Maybe.” 

_ Definitely not.  _

“I’ve never seen anyone hold their own against Riddle.”

Her ears perked again at the mention of him. “He seems powerful.”

“He’s been the top of our class since the moment he stepped foot on the castle grounds his first year. His head is always in a book. Always in the library learning, even if there’s no exam coming up.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “He just wants to be the best. Perfection is everything to him.”

“Does that not bother you?”

“Why would it? Nothing wrong with wanting to be the best version of yourself.”

She thought about the version of himself that Tom would one day become. It was hard to even think about Voldemort and Tom as the same person. Their only real similarity was their hunger for power. She wondered if Lestrange would still defend his friend if he knew what he would one day become.

A part of her knew he would, but another part didn’t want to believe that. 

She looked down at the water beneath them, listening to the way the rippling waves crashed against the boat in quiet bursts. “I don’t think anyone should strive for perfection. It’s unattainable.”

His fingers lightly skirted along her arms, tracing indistinguishable shapes on her skin while he stared at her lips. “I beg to differ.” His breath was still strong with the scent of the firewhiskey as she felt his weight shift so he could better face her.

She saw his eyes darken with lust, the green nearly becoming black as he watched her inch away from him. She focused her energy into a silent spell, urging the wind to slowly start drifting them back to the shore.

Her hazel eyes were avoiding his, but he watched her carefully as she fidgeted in her seat. It occurred to him that she was quite a restless person, he didn’t think he’d ever seen her actually sit fully still.

The wind was dragging them back to shore, but he was determined to make the night last longer. “I still have one last thing I want to show you on your tour of Hogwarts.”

“And what is that?” 

“Impatient, are we? You’ll see,” he said as the boat rocked forward, hitting the shoreline. He pointed his wand at the water and propelled them onto dry land with a quick spell before standing up and hopping out of the boat, extending his arm out to help her exit after him. He left the bottle of firewhiskey in the boat, both of them feeling its effects too strongly to require more drinks. They walked alongside the lake as he took them around the castle, towards the entrance to the grounds. “You know, you’re unlike any girl I’ve met before.”

“Yeah? How so?”

“You’re confident, intelligent, beautiful-”

“You mean to tell me you’ve never met a confident, intelligent, and beautiful woman before?” she said, cutting him off as she rolled her eyes.

He laughed. “Not one like you.”

“I wonder how many people have heard you say those exact same words to them before.”

“About three dozen, but I’ve only ever meant it just now,” he said, the familiar mischievous twinkle in his eye returning as he winked at her. 

“Mmmhm.”

“You don’t believe me?” 

“Not in the slightest.”

“Then I’ll just have to work harder to earn your trust,” he said, smiling as he led them into the castle once more. There were very few students out at this point in the night, the hallways were all but empty. He took her hand and spun her around, twirling her into his grasp before speaking softly into her ear. “Tell me you felt the same sparks I did tonight.”

She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up at the feeling of his hot breath on her skin. Had she not known better, she may have agreed with him. He was an expert flirt and a master charmer, but even through the haze of the firewhiskey, she knew better than to fall for it. Still, she batted her eyes at him and bit her lip, knowing she had to keep him just interested enough to stay on his good side. “My lips are sealed, Lestrange.”

“You’re killing me,” he whined, but she heard the enjoyment in his tone. “Come on, follow me.”

He ran down the hall, stopping before a door near the entrance to the castle. His eyes darted to the left and right, confirming that they weren’t being watched before he opened the door and led her down a stone stairwell into the dungeons. She had a feeling she knew where he was taking her and grabbed him by the sleeve. “Where are we going?”

“Take notes, you’ll need to remember this,” he said with a smirk, continuing his descent until they reached a bare wall in the midst of the dungeon. He turned around, his eyes dark with desire as he took her hands in his. “So how did you enjoy your tour?” 

“It was going well until you brought me to the dungeons,” she grumbled, squinting in the dimly lit underground area. 

“I wanted to save the best for last,” he said, pulling her wrist so she stepped forward towards him. The candlelit dungeons illuminated his features just enough that she could see his pearly smile and glistening green eyes. “I’m going to let you in on a secret.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhm. But you have to come in close so I can tell you,” he said. “Can’t have anyone overhear it.”

“We can’t have that,” she agreed as he leaned back against the wall, pulling her forward so she was practically atop him. She couldn’t help but feel her cheeks flush red as he ran his fingers up her neck and alongside her face, his touch feather light as he pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear, leaning in to whisper to her. 

“This is the entrance to Slytherin’s Common Room. I want you to stay the night with me,” he said, his lips brushing against her ear as he spoke. His hands slid up and cupped her cheek as he locked their eyes. She tried to come up with a reason why she couldn’t, but as soon as she opened her mouth to protest, he wrapped his arms around her waist, keeping her close. “Tell me you’ll stay with me.”

“I can’t,” she said, but her voice was quiet. 

He wouldn’t let go of her gaze. His eyes were filled with lust as he flashed her that cocky little smile of his. “Why not?” His lips moved down from her ear towards her neck and he hovered there for a moment, waiting for a complaint that never came, before he placed a soft kiss on her skin. “Nobody has to know,” he said, his voice a seductive whisper. She watched as he tilted his head up, their lips close to touching. “Stay.”

He looked into her eyes one more time, once again waiting to see if she would object, before he tried to close the space between them. She moved her head just in time to have his lips graze her cheek instead, and she felt his lips curl into a grin against her skin.

“Xavier, I can’t.” Her hands pushed against his chest, and he took a step back, laughing. 

“You’re playing hard to get,” he noted, his eyes still fixated on her lips. It didn’t bother him that she had backed off. He only took it as a challenge and found himself growing more and more infatuated with her. “That’s fine, I had a great time tonight, nonetheless.”

“As did I,” she said, feeling herself let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding in. 

“Well, if you change your mind and want to join me,” he walked up to the wall before him, “Grindylow.” The wall broke away as he stated the password, revealing the entrance to the common room. He faced her again. “Second dorm on the left, drop by anytime.”

“Not going to walk me back?” she asked.

“Love, I just gave you a tour. You’ll find your way,” he replied, a smirk plastered across his drunken face. “See you in class,” he said with a wink, striding off as the entrance closed behind him. 

She just stood there for a few moments, absolutely dumbfounded by what had just happened. Her head hurt from a combination of the drinks as well as from the cheeky boy she had spent her night with and her thoughts swirled around her mind like a wild tornado, leaving behind nothing but a mass of confusion.

When the silence of the dungeon started to settle back into her mind, she began climbing back up the stairs to exit the chambers and head back towards Ravenclaw Tower. She hummed to herself, desperate to escape the quiet and fill her ears with some semblance of noise. 

When she got to the main hallway, there wasn’t a single soul still outside. Just her, the statues, and the moonlight. 

Her humming and her footsteps were the only thing between her and an absolute still night. Silence enveloped the entire castle and she found herself walking faster, trying to get back to her dormitory as fast as possible.

She nearly tripped over her own feet a few times, the firewhiskey doing its job in hindering her motions. Her heart was pounding so fast that she felt it might burst out of her chest, her nerves on overdrive as she strode through the empty halls. She stopped humming, suddenly feeling as though she was being too loud for her own good, so she began quietly tapping the back of her wrist, just desperate to hear something as she walked. 

Her footsteps grew faster and faster as she became more and more anxious. The quiet was suffocating her. 

As she turned a corner, she nearly let out a shriek as her body collided with another, stumbling over her feet and tripping backwards, falling onto the ground with a quiet ‘thud.’ She hit her head against the wall, grumbling out a string of profanities under her breath as she rubbed the back of her neck. “Bloody Hell, watch where you’re going.”

Tom Riddle stood before her, quickly grabbing something he had dropped when they crashed into one another. She couldn’t quite see what it was in the dimly lit hallway, but it seemed like a book of sorts. He stuffed it into his robe before she could see it. “I could say the same for you,” he said, his voice stone cold. 

Something about him seemed off. His hair was matted with sweat, his eyes were sunken with dark circles beneath them, and his voice was raspy, as though it had been worn out. He was fidgeting more than usual, his typically calm and collected facade nonexistent as he began to move past her. 

“Why are you out so late?” she asked, stopping him in his tracks. 

He turned around and watched as she picked herself up off the ground, brushing the debris off her lilac dress. “I was studying. And I suppose you were busy with Lestrange?”

“He gave me a tour,” her words coming out a little more slurred than she would have liked.

“Of the liquor cabinet?”

She ignored his comment and motioned towards the item he had stashed into his robes. “What were you reading?”

“Do you always ask so many questions?” he said. 

“Do you always dodge so many questions?”

He smiled, but it wasn’t the same charming smile she had seen him brandish in front of his friends. It was more of a sinister smirk and she could swear that for a moment, his eyes flashed crimson. 

Her heart started beating so rapidly that she was afraid it would tear out of her chest and onto the floor, her fingers fidgeting uncomfortably as he looked into her eyes, analyzing her every blink, her every breath, her every move. “I think you should get to bed,” he said. It wasn’t a suggestion, and she stared at him blankly before she walked past him, purposely hitting him with her shoulder as she did. “And tell Lestrange that if he keeps you out this late again, I will write both of you up next time.”

She rolled her eyes, but kept walking. Her eyes were growing heavy as she trudged through the castle, her footsteps becoming more sloppy as the firewhiskey after-effects neared her to exhaustion. 

It annoyed her how large the castle was. It felt like it was taking an eon to get from Slytherin to Ravenclaw, and she found herself growing tired of the journey. 

Riddle’s face was etched into her mind. She wanted, more than anything, to know what he was up to-- actually up to. She didn’t buy that he was studying, though something about the way he looked tonight told her it wasn’t the time to press him. She had seen him… Voldemort… in Riddle’s eyes for the first time tonight. And the vision haunted her mind as she walked through the castle, trying to shut out the image from her thoughts.

She stopped for a second, hearing footsteps. At first, she couldn’t tell if they were just echoes of her own, but as they grew closer, she peaked around the corner to see a blond boy walking around the grounds, the smile on his lips radiant as he walked, lost in his own thoughts. 

He spotted her and she tried ducking behind a column, but he slowly walked over. “Hello?”

“Hi,” she said, blushing as she stepped out and smiled at him. He looked familiar to her, though she wasn’t exactly sure why. His grey eyes watched her curiously, noticing how her movements seemed impeded by the alcohol that he smelt on her breath. 

He extended a hand out to her, which she shook as he introduced himself. “My name is Orion. Orion Avery. I don’t think we’ve formally met yet, but I’m a friend of Lestrange. He told me you two were going out together tonight.” The memory of seeing him sitting with Riddle and Lestrange at the Great Hall for the Welcome Feast flooded her mind as she pieced together who she was speaking to. “Are you headed back to your dormitory?” She nodded and he shook his head. “He didn’t walk you back? That incompetent…” He sighed, his face contorting into one of disappointment. “Would you like me to walk you back to Ravenclaw Tower?”

He was different from the other members of their group she had met. His kindness seemed genuine and his eyes didn’t hide ulterior motives. She nodded, accepting his offer. “Thank you.”

They walked together and he let her hold onto his arm to steady herself once he saw her struggle with her footing a couple of times. She remembered Lestrange talking about him earlier in the night, but found it hard to believe Lestrange and Avery could actually be friends-- and the thought of Avery and Riddle being close seemed even more foreign. They seemed so different. 

“So, did you have fun with Lestrange?”

She laughed. “He’s…interesting.”

“That’s the understatement of the century,” the blond replied, his eyes glimmering when he smiled. “He’s infatuated by you, you know. He wouldn’t shut up about you all day.”

“Really?”

He nodded, but he seemed lost in thought. “I don’t mean to overstep, but just be careful around him. He’s got a reputation around campus for being…promiscuous, to say the least. I love the guy, but if he’s ever bothering you, just let me know, alright?”

“I can handle myself, don’t you worry,” she said. “But I appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“So why were  _ you _ out this late at night?” she asked.

He laughed, though she sensed a bit of panic in his eyes. He wasn’t as good at hiding things as Riddle, or even Lestrange. “I was visiting a friend.” She decided not to press him further. “How are you liking Hogwarts so far?”

“I love the school.”

“Yeah, it’s amazing. It’s been an amazing home for me over the past six years. I’m sad that this is my final year here.”

“You have an entire year to enjoy, don’t worry. I’m sure the best is yet to come.”

He smiled, and she felt safe around him. His presence didn’t overwhelm her, his tone didn’t upset her, and his actions didn’t scare her. Nothing about him put her on edge, and nothing about her seemed to him like she belonged with someone like Lestrange. 

They had arrived at the foot of Ravenclaw Tower. “Thank you for walking me back,” she said, sincerely.

“Anytime. Enjoy the rest of your night, I’ll see you around,” he said with a warm smile, waving as he turned around and headed towards his own dormitory. 

And, for the first time in a long time, as she walked up to her dormitory, she felt a strange sense of calm wash over her. 

Tom burst into the Slytherin Common Room to see Lestrange, Rosier, and Mulciber lounging on couches, the rest of the room empty. 

“What did I tell you? I knew it,” Rosier said to Mulciber. 

“You were right, mate. I owe you 50 galleons,” Mulciber mumbled, rolling his eyes before turning his attention to Lestrange. “You really had to choose the one time I bet on you to strike out with a girl?”

“That’s what you get for having faith in him,” Rosier laughed.

“Hey, look, don’t pay up just yet. I didn’t strike out. She was just being a prude,” Lestrange said, rolling his eyes. “I don’t know why she was being so difficult.”

Rosier shrugged. “Maybe she just has class. You could learn a thing or two about that...”

Lestrange bunched his hair back, tying it into a low ponytail as he stared at the ceiling. “She’s just playing hard to get. I’m not afraid of a little chase, though.”

“I take it your usual tactics didn’t work on her?” Tom asked as he walked up to the group.

“I just need one more night with her.”

“Don’t you ever get tired of playing the same game with every girl you meet?” Mulciber asked, a hint of amusement written across his features. This had to have been the 100th time he’d heard Lestrange talk about a woman in this Common Room. Some things would never change.

“What can I say? I enjoy the simple things in life,” Lestrange said, his voice thick with sarcasm.

“I can’t believe you made me leave our room empty just so you could come home alone,” Rosier grumbled. 

The entrance opened and the four of them turned to see Avery walk in, his gaze immediately settling onto Lestrange. “I just had to walk your intoxicated date back to her dormitory because you left her in the corridor alone.”

“I offered to let her spend the night here,” Lestrange shrugged, rolling his eyes. 

“How you continue to find women willing to go out with you when you have that attitude is just beyond me,” Avery said, shaking his head as he sat down next to Mulciber.

Lestrange smiled lazily. “It’s the charm and the hair, Avery. Take notes.”

“Is Nott still out with his girl?” Avery asked, looking around for his roommate. “Tell me they’re not in my room.”

“I saw them walk towards the dorms about an hour ago. Sorry, mate,” Mulciber said, laughing as his friend groaned into his hands. “By the way, where have you been?”

“Just roaming the grounds. Needed fresh air to clear my head before day two of tryouts tomorrow,” he replied. He and Mulciber started discussing Quidditch, and Tom took this as a good chance to motion for Rosier and Lestrange to get up and follow him. 

The two of them nodded before following Tom out of the Common Room, leaving the two seventh years to discuss the recruitment of new players for their team. They walked to Tom’s room and he waited for them to enter before he shut the door behind them and placed a silencing charm on the room.

He took the diary out of his pocket, tossing it onto his bed. “It’s been done.”

Lestrange’s eyes widened and Rosier’s jaw dropped as they looked between Riddle and the diary in disbelief. Lestrange was the first to speak. “You really did it? You made a second one?”

Tom nodded, smiling to himself as he stared at the new Horcrux and the ring on his finger. “I did it. I’m one step closer to becoming the most powerful wizard that has ever lived.” 

“That’s wicked,” Lestrange said, his eyes darkened with excitement. “Way to go, Riddle.”

“I need something of you,” Tom said, taking a step towards Lestrange. 

“Anything,” he replied.

“If something were to happen to me… This diary has the ability to drain the life out of someone in exchange for the revival of the part of my soul embedded into its pages.”

“A life for a life?” Rosier asked.

“Exactly. This Horcrux has the ability to bring me back, no matter what. I need you to swear to me that if something happens to me, you will use the diary to revive me.”

“Of course I would. You know I would,” Lestrange answered, sounding almost hurt that Tom would doubt him. “I swear to it.”

“Will you make an Unbreakable Vow, then?” Riddle asked, his eyes narrowing on his closest confidante. He didn’t consider any of the boys his ‘friends.’ They were more his allies. His supporters. His followers. Though, Lestrange was the most loyal of the bunch. He always had been, and Riddle suspected that he always would be. 

“In a heartbeat,” Lestrange answered, pulling up his sleeve and extending his hand, which Tom grabbed. “Rosier, do the honors.”

“An unbreakable vow… Are you sure you two want to do this?” Rosier asked. “If you go through with this, there is no going back. Break the promise and you’ll lose your life.”

“Yes, Rosier, I know what ‘unbreakable’ means, thank you very much,” Lestrange said. 

Tom narrowed his eyes at Rosier. “Is there a problem?”

Rosier shook his head ‘no’ before he fumbled to grab his wand, walking up to the two boys, his eyes darting between the two of them nervously before placing the tip of his wand on their linked hands.

“Will you, Xavier Lestrange, vow to use my diary as a means to revive me to my full power if I am ever weakened?” Tom asked, his eyes burning into Xavier’s as he awaited a response.

“I will,” Lestrange nodded, their hands glowing with a thin line of white flame wound around their touch. 

“And will you vow that you will make sure to fulfil this duty by draining the life from another, ensuring that my soul can be reborn after a life offering is made?”

“I will.”

Another wire-like light bound around them as he accepted the second vow, before both lines faded to nothingness and the boys unlinked their arms. Rosier quietly lowered his wand, and none of them spoke after that. Tom simply picked up the diary, nodded at the two of them, and opened his door, motioning for them to exit his room. 

He had gotten exactly what he wanted.


	5. Chapter 5

“Avalon, you have to wake up,” Zelda said, tugging the covers off of her roommate’s bed. “You’re going to be late for class!”

“I don’t care,” she grumbled, trying to pull the sheets back over her head with an annoyed huff. She had only slept for a total of four hours after coming back to her room after her night with Lestrange and she was desperate to stay in the comfort of her blankets for every second she could. 

Avalon Hendrix was anything but a morning person.

“It’s only the second day of classes, don’t make me pour water on you this early on.”

“Alright, alright,” Avalon grumbled, rolling over to face Zelda, who was already fully dressed in her robes. “I’m getting up. Happy?”

“Very much so, yes,” she said as she watched Avalon crawl out of bed. Judging by the sheer amount of effort she exerted pulling herself onto her feet, you’d think Avalon was a corpse prying herself out of her own grave. Zelda made a mental note to remember that her roommate definitely lacked her usual poise and dignity in the mornings. “You got home late last night.” Avalon nodded. “Where were you?”

“I was given a tour of the campus.”

Zelda’s eyes narrowed. “Did this tour by chance include the Greenhouse?” She took Avalon’s silence as a clear answer and sighed. “Darling, I only say this because I care for you. Lestrange pulls that stunt on every girl at this school.”

“I’m not going to fall for it, don’t worry,” she said, Zelda’s face relaxing at the confession. 

“Just be careful, okay? That whole lot…they’re....” Her voice trailed off and she just stared at the wall before her.

“They’re what?”

Zelda took in a deep breath and Avalon could see her struggling to come up with the right words. “Perhaps I shouldn’t judge people without knowing them well enough.”

“No, I want to hear what you were going to say. I won’t judge you for speaking your mind.”

It took a moment for her to speak again. “They’re dangerous. And I don’t mean ‘mean,’ or ‘rude,’ or… no, no. I mean dangerous in the most savage, vicious sense. And I can’t truly describe why. Some of them are better than the others… but they all hide this darkness within them. It frightens me.”

“Why do you think that?”

“They’re only friends because they’re all purebloods. I doubt there’s a single one of them that believes muggle-borns deserve to breathe the same air as them. And I don’t know. I see it. I sense it. And maybe I’m wrong and I’m being terribly harsh to these boys on a baseless accusation, but I just… I look at Riddle and Lestrange and I don’t see even a semblance of a soul behind their eyes.” Avalon knew Tom Riddle was a half-blood and she wondered if his own posse would still follow him if they knew the truth, too. Zelda sighed. “They follow Riddle around like he’s a god, too. He’s a terribly bright wizard, there’s no denying that, but it’s like he has them under his own spell.” She shook her head, feeling guilty for talking down on her peers. Avalon couldn’t help but think her roommate’s heart was too pure for her own good. “Like I said, maybe I’m wrong. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t be their friend, but I just want you to be careful. I trust your own judgement, I’m sure you’ll make the right decision.” She clapped her hands. “Sorry, I rambled. Get dressed! We have to head to class.”

Avalon offered Zelda a smile, which was graciously returned, before she walked to her dresser to pick out her uniform and robes. She quickly changed, making sure her back was facing the wall to hide the scar on her back. Zelda had seen the discolored tissue alongside Avalon’s arms and legs and chose to not press her roommate about them, though the large ‘TRAITOR’ engraved into her back was still a hidden secret that Avalon did not intend to show anytime soon. She finished changing hastily and they bolted out of Ravenclaw Tower to make it to their classes.

Zelda made it to her Charms class right on time, and Avalon was able to burst into Defense Against the Dark Arts just a moment before Professor Merrythought stood up to begin the lesson.

She noticed there was only one seat left, and it was next to Lestrange, surely on purpose. Zelda’s words about him played over and over in her head as she walked over and sat in the chair beside the grinning boy. He leaned over almost immediately, wasting no time before he spoke to her in a hushed tone that only she could hear. “My bed was awfully cold last night, darling. How about yours?”

“Warm like a summer day,” she replied smugly, earning a chuckle from him. 

“Good morning, class,” Professor Merrythought said, silencing Lestrange before he could get in another word. “If you would all open your books to page 429, we will begin class now.”

Avalon grabbed her book and flipped to the page. She looked around the class as her peers lazily opened up their books and found herself watching the Prefect sitting in the row across from her and Xavier. 

Her eyes met with Riddle’s as she looked his way. He didn’t bother to look away, just held her stare. She couldn’t help but think about how he looked the night prior. Frantic, irritated, erratic. So unlike his usual collected self. 

She broke eye contact with him when Merrythought spoke again. “Today, we are going to be discussing the Unforgivable Curses.” Avalon felt her blood run cold. “Before we begin, I would like to remind everyone of the gravity of these curses. They are unforgivable for a reason. Any witch or wizard who chooses to use this type of magic on another person will be subject to extreme and immediate punishment. We learn about these curses to ensure you all are equipped with the knowledge in case the need should arise for you to understand and defend against them. However, using them is strictly forbidden. Am I clear?” A chorus of ‘Yes ma’am’ and ‘Mhm’ rang through the classroom. “Good. Would anybody care to tell the class the names of the three Unforgivable Curses?”

Tom raised his hand. “The Cruciatus Curse, Imperius Curse, and the Killing Curse.”

“Very good, Mr. Riddle.” She scanned the class, her eyes landing on Lestrange, who was eyeing Avalon and paying little regard to the lesson. “Mr. Lestrange, if you could spare a moment from ogling your classmate, please tell the class what each of these curses is capable of doing.”

Xavier let out an exasperated sigh before he turned his attention to the professor. “Well, the Cruciatus Curse is essentially a torture spell, inflicting unbearable pain on whoever it is cast upon; while the Imperius Curse gives the caster the ability to fully control the victim, allowing them to perform any task with no free will to do otherwise. The Killing Curse is, as the name suggests, a means to end a life: instantly and painlessly.”

“Correct,” she said. She kept speaking about the uses and history of the curses, but Avalon couldn’t focus.

Her mind was swimming with the memory of Hermione carving her back with a blade under the control of the Imperius Curse. The feeling of her bones about to split from the inside as she screamed at the effects of the Cruciatus Curse. The vision of seeing the green light of the Killing Curse hit her friends, her professors, her classmates in the chest. Watching them fall to the ground, eyes empty, face lifeless. 

That green light. That damned green light.

_ It was always green. _

She remembered the way her own wand had shot out red sparks that tore through the Death Eater’s cores when she saw them, making them fall to their knees under the strain of the Cruciatus Curse before she stared right into their pathetic, hateful eyes and watched as her wand cracked out a line of green, ending their lives the same way they had ended so many others. 

Just a year ago, she never thought she could bring herself to use the Killing Curse. But, now, she knew that desperate times called for drastic actions. Eye for eye, life for life, green for green. She looked over at Tom, her fingers clenching around her quill, trembling as she felt her fury course through her veins. One day, she’d watch as that same green light hit him right in his chest and she would finally, for the first time in an eternity, feel peace when his empty eyes closed for the last time. 

His voice broke her out of her thoughts. “Professor, purely for the sake of understanding the weight of the Curses, could you demonstrate them to us? Perhaps on one of the creatures you have in here,” he said, motioning towards the collection of small animals caged up around the class. 

“Mr. Riddle, I hardly believe it is necessary to physically see these Curses in action to understand their gravity, don’t you think?”

“Quite the contrary, actually,” he said. His voice was unnervingly calm, though he was good at making himself sound innocently curious when he spoke. “I don’t think anyone can truly recognize the severity of the Curses until you see them performed.”

Avalon couldn’t help but scoff in disgust, making Lestrange snicker next to her. 

Merrythought didn’t speak for a moment before she sighed and walked over to a cage where she had been keeping an imp on display. She brought the cage to the center of the classroom and stared at it for a minute, as if debating her actions to come, before she opened her mouth. “What I am about to do is purely for academic purposes.” With a small huff she turned to face the imp and uttered, “ _ Imperio, _ ” and the imp went still. “Under the effects of the Imperius Curse, I can now control him into doing as I wish.” At her command, the creature began jumping around in the cage, moving in unnatural ways that made Avalon’s stomach churn. 

What was even more unnerving was the way Tom Riddle was watching the animal with a look of pleasure written across his lips. It made her sick, but she couldn’t look away. The scar on her back suddenly shot with pain as though it was an open wound. She shuddered at the thought of Hermione under the effects of the Imperius Curse, painting her back with warm blood like it was a blank canvas ready to be stained with crimson.

Lestrange looked at Avalon, but she didn’t notice. He watched as she gripped her quill tighter and tighter until her fists were turning white. Her fingers were shaking uncontrollably. He reached out and put his hand atop hers, but she barely noticed. 

“Next, is the Cruciatus Curse,” Merrythought said, pausing to take a deep breath before speaking clearly, “ _ Crucio _ .” A shrill shriek filled the classroom as the creature convulsed violently, crying out for relief as the curse overtook its senses. 

Avalon’s brain felt like it was going to split. The pain of the curse still felt fresh to her. She was sure that she would never forget what the torture of the Cruciatus Curse felt like: it was as though her bones were crushing from within while a fire burned her insides, shattering her heart, spirit, and mind all with one intolerable blow. 

Riddle’s lips had the faintest of smiles painted onto them. She was sure that nobody else in the class noticed it-- no, he was far too smart to let anyone else see his pleasure-- but she saw it clear as day. Just a hint of a smile etched into his features, just faint enough to be hidden from his peers, but bold enough to make her blood boil at the sight. 

She tried to block out the noise of the imp’s screeches, but it was unrelenting and never ending. Unable to tolerate anymore, she finally blurted out, “Stop it!”

All the eyes in the classroom turned to face her the moment the Professor released the imp from the strain of the curse. Merrythought looked at her with a raised brow. “Miss Hendrix?”

Xavier pulled away from her a bit, sitting back in his chair as the whole class waited for her to answer the professor. When she finally spoke, her voice echoed through the class with a certain authority that refused to sound as broken as she felt inside. “Anyone who needs to witness torture to comprehend the ‘severity’ of it lacks common logic and understanding.” 

Lestrange held back a laugh while looking over at Tom, who was watching her with a mixture of annoyance and amusement written on his lips-- the sight made her nauseous. Tom found her remarkably irritating, but a part of him was intrigued by her tenacity. 

He was aware that she disliked him from the moment they first laid eyes on each other, but he couldn’t quite understand why. He was aware that her fingernails dug into her own palms every time she looked his way, but he couldn’t quite explain why. He was aware that she wasn’t buying into his perfectly-tailored charm that he had meticulously crafted over the years, but he couldn’t quite figure out why. And as much as he hated her peevish attitude, there were few things he hated more than not knowing how to control someone, especially someone as curious as Avalon.

It was painfully obvious to Tom that she didn’t particularly like Lestrange and his pretentiously flirtatious self, but Tom knew that the only thing he and Lestrange truly had in common was persistence. 

It did, however, baffle Tom why she even chose to entertain Lestrange’s time. He could see it in her eyes that she didn’t fancy him, and Tom didn’t pin her as the type to be going after a one time affair, so he was perplexed by her decision to keep his companion at arm’s length. Perhaps he was giving her too much credit and she was just drawn to the attention Xavier provided her, but something told Tom that she was after something else.

He was determined to figure out what it was. 

“Once again, Miss Hendrix, you are attempting to tell me how to teach my class,” Merrythought said, disdain laced throughout her voice.

“With all due respect, Professor, why is it that when I make a suggestion, I’m ‘attempting to tell you how to teach’ but when Riddle asks you to change your curriculum so he can get his daily fix of torture, you don’t bat an eye?” Avalon grumbled.

“Five points from Ravenclaw, and I’ll see you in detention, Miss Hendrix. Any more comments?” The Professor looked around the class, as if challenging someone else to speak. Nobody dared say a word, taken aback at Avalon’s boldness, and she opened her mouth to begin the lesson again. 

Lestrange looked at Avalon, rolled his eyes, then raised his hand. “Professor, if I may-”

“You may not, Mr. Lestrange,” the Professor said, cutting him off coldly.

“No, no, truly, I insist,” he said, his face deadly serious. The entire class watched him breathlessly, waiting to see what words would trickle off of his tongue. Avalon bit her bottom lip, trying to suppress the grin that was forming. “I do believe you’re being a little harsh to Miss Hendrix.”

“Do you now?” the Professor asked, her voice unamused. There were quiet snickers echoing throughout the classroom, but Lestrange paid them no mind.

“I do. See, in her defense, what you may not have considered is that while some of us, personally,  _ love  _ to get off on the sounds of imps crying for mercy at the crack of dawn, there are others who perhaps find it squeamish.”

“Mr. Lestrange, watch your tone with me. This isn’t classroom appropriate.”

“Then by all means, Professor, let’s take this somewhere more private,” he said with a wink.

“Five points from Slytherin and please, feel free to join Miss Hendrix today in detention. I’m sure you will find that to be ‘private’ enough’ for your liking,” she said, disgust painted onto her wrinkled features.

“I look forward to it, Prof,” he said, relaxing in his seat as the rest of the class laughed behind their books. Avalon looked at him and raised a brow. He just shrugged before leaning over and whispering, “What? Didn’t think I’d let you suffer alone, did you?”

“Of course not. You’re too much of a gentleman,” she answered sarcastically. 

“I am nothing if not chivalrous,” he said, grinning to himself when she laughed. She was opening up to him, not by much, but just enough for him to push harder to get on her good side. 

“Lestrange, switch seats with Mr. Riddle,” Merrythought said with growing agitation in her voice. 

Xavier threw his hands up in defense, “What did I do now?”

“If you and Miss Hendrix refuse to stay quiet when sitting together, then you leave me no choice but to separate the two of you. Off you go,” she said curtly. 

He gave a huff and rolled his eyes, getting up as dramatically as possible before blowing an exaggerated kiss to Avalon as he stood, his face painted with feigned torment. The class watched him with delight, and he ate up the attention like a Christmas feast.

Riddle rose from his seat quietly, picking up his books and rolling his eyes as Lestrange theatrically plopped down where Tom had been sitting before. Lestrange immediately started conversing with Rosier next to him, but Avalon felt a chill run down her spine when Riddle stiffly sat down beside her. 

He didn’t speak, nor did he look at her. Instead, he just placed his book on the desk and opened it back up to the page that the Professor was explaining. Avalon found herself sneaking glances at him every few moments, trying to read him. She soon became painfully aware of the amount of girls in the class that kept looking his way, trying to catch his eyes at every chance they got. He paid them no mind, and it occurred to her that he didn’t have to. He was revered by those around him. The whole school seemed to be wrapped around his finger, letting him tempt them closer and closer to the darkness with just a simple smile.

She wanted so badly to see glimpses of that same evil she knew he possessed. She wanted so badly to look at him and be met with that crimson stare that had looked her friends in the eyes and murdered them in cold blood She wanted so badly to see nothing but evil within him.

But, when he finally looked her way, all she saw was that same infuriating faint smile from earlier. Just a slight smirk painted delicately onto his cold exterior, masking terrible intentions and a bloodthirsty lust for power behind a devilishly handsome face-- one that she knew would one day be mutilated and disfigured in his Dark Magic-driven plight for immortality. 

She looked away, her eyes darting away the moment his met hers, but her grip around her quill tightened involuntarily. Tom noticed that her arms were littered with scars, even though she tried to hide them underneath the sleeves of her robes. Curiosity rose within him and he made a mental note to later try to figure out how she had received them. He wondered what secrets she was hiding from the world, from him. The way her fingers shook at all times, the way she tapped her foot incessantly, the way she flinched any time there was a particularly loud sound… none of it made sense when paralleled with her bold and brash behavior. 

He found her remarkably annoying, but still had a strange sense of respect for her generally unapologetic attitude. He hated weakness, and while she was many things-- most of them unpleasant-- she was anything but weak. 

His attention was divided between her and the lesson of the day. He found the Unforgivable Curses fascinating. He’d grown fond of using them, each of them slowly becoming staple tricks up his sleeve, though his insatiable desire for more was starting to grow tired of the same slew of spells. 

He wanted more. He needed more. He craved more.

His mind strayed back to their duel from the other day. He had spent hours in the library afterwards, searching book after book for clues about the spells she had used against him. He had never seen such magic used before and was almost certain that it was arcane Dark Magic-- it was obvious from the way it felt coursing through his body, depleting every last ounce of strength he had within him and leaving him hollowed out with nothing but an aching sense of dull pain lingering inside. 

It was powerful magic, undoubtedly, but there was no trace of it in any of the books he had read-- and he had surely read a lot of them. He needed to know if she knew more magic like that and, more importantly, he needed to know how she knew it. 

Class seemed to go on forever, and Tom quickly grew tired of the way Hendrix couldn’t sit still to save her own life. Her foot constantly tapped against the floor, and he finally shot a cold look at her and whispered, “Do you mind?”

She looked back at him rather confused before she realized he was referring to her tapping. She debated continuing, just to irk him, but with a roll of her eyes and a quiet huff of agitation, she stopped moving her feet. It was, however, only a few seconds before her hands started fidgeting in their wake. Tom shook his head, but didn’t say anything else. 

Class was minutes away from ending when Merrythought announced, “Your assignment before the end of the week is to write a paper explaining the history of one of the Unforgivable Curses of your choosing. It will be a joint assignment with whoever you are currently sitting next to, so please make sure to coordinate with them for a time to work on it together.”

Avalon groaned, not even attempting to hide her displeasure at being partnered with the Prefect by her side. Tom waited patiently until class was over, not wanting to irritate the Professor and get on her bad side, before he turned to Avalon. He noticed Lestrange had walked up to Merrythought’s desk, undoubtedly to ask about his and Hendrix’s joint detention, so she would wait for him, giving Tom a chance to talk to her.

There was something unnerving about his gaze that made Avalon shudder every time it landed on her. Perhaps it was the way his smile never reached his emptied eyes, or perhaps it was the way his lips turned in such a perfect grin that she was sure he had spent hours meticulously crafting it to perfection, but he made her blood run ice cold with every glance he threw her way. He finally spoke to her when she was busy closing up her book, preparing to leave. “Are you always so bad at hiding your emotions, or is it only around me?” His voice was velvet smooth with a tone that put songbirds to shame, making it hard to differentiate between his sarcasm and his charm. 

She couldn’t answer him and it bothered her. She knew that she had to get close to him, unravel his secrets and find the information she needed, but whenever he spoke to her, she couldn’t bring herself to answer. His presence was a reminder of all the lives that Voldemort would one day rip apart, all the destruction he would one day bring forth, and all the pain he would one day put her through. Voldemort ruined all the beautiful things she had ever known. In a sense, she supposed even Tom Riddle would one day fall victim to Voldemort’s self-imploding path to destruction. Her eyes narrowed on him, but she continued to greet him with silence, which caused the tiniest of scowls to flash onto his features before he retorted back to his calculatedly calm composure. 

“A word of advice,” he said. “You’ll get much further at this school if you learn to control your feelings as well as you duel.” Her ears perked up at the mention of her dueling, and he knew he was on the right path. “You’re a skilled witch. It would be a shame for that talent to go to waste because you let your emotions get the best of you.”

The compliment-- though backhanded at best-- caught her off guard. “I think I’ll be just fine,” she replied.

“I’m sure you will be. I’m only trying to help,” he replied with a disinterested shrug. “It just seemed peculiar to me how you lunged at me with Dark Magic without an ounce of hesitation, yet cowered at the Unforgivables.” 

He was watching her carefully, trying to analyze her every movement, every tick, every emotion, hoping they would betray her. Sensing his probing eyes, she returned his gaze with an equally blank face, determined to give him as little to read off of her as possible. “They are called Unforgivable for a reason.”

He laughed, and she hated how it sounded so angelic, yet empty. “They are only spells, Hendrix. Like anything else, they are only magic.”

“Dark Magic,” she shot back. 

“You’re hardly one to lecture about not using Dark Magic.” She glared at him, but he didn’t seem to care. He was near impossible to decipher, his face always painted with an expertly crafted facade that masked his emotions-- if he had any at all. He continued his thought. “Perhaps if we were bold enough to use more powerful magic, we would have avoided the problems we now have. The war would be over much sooner if we weren’t afraid of using certain spells.”

“The war wouldn’t exist if nobody used these spells,” she said, referring to Grindelwald as well as Voldemort, himself.

“In an ideal world, perhaps. But darkness and its followers will always exist, whether or not you want to believe that.”

“And I will crush every last one of them if given the chance,” she said, holding his gaze. “I’m not above using any type of magic, Riddle. I believe you have to use every resource in the books to fight for the things you believe in. I just happen to believe in the right things.”

“Then for once it seems we are in agreement,” he said, smirking. “When are you available to work on the assignment?” He wasn’t thrilled to be working with her, either. Tom always preferred to do his work alone. Anyone else just held him back and he hated having to slow himself down to match the pace of another. 

“I’m usually free after my last class,” she said reluctantly. 

“Your last class is Transfiguration, correct?” She nodded, knowing they had Dumbledore’s class together. “Great, we can head over to the library tomorrow after the lesson. I’d prefer to get this done as soon as possible.”

“Likewise.”

Lestrange and Rosier finally waltzed up to them, Xavier’s hand snaking around Avalon’s waist immediately. She looked down at where his touch landed on her, but didn’t object. Tom wasn’t surprised-- Lestrange usually got what he wanted. Hendrix wouldn’t be much different. 

Rosier looked at her and held out his hand. “I am Adonis, by the way. I’ve heard all about you but don’t believe I’ve actually introduced myself, yet.”

She took his hand and smiled. “Avalon. A pleasure.”

“We’re on cleanup duty tonight,” Lestrange said, breaking up their introduction. “We’re to be here an hour after dinner to polish the floors.”

“That’s not too miserable,” Rosier said.

“Without magic,” Lestrange added, earning a groan from Avalon. He chuckled. “Hey, it could be worse. Merrythought once made Avery and Nott use toothbrushes to clean out the Prefect bathroom toilets.”

“So I take it you’ll be skipping Slug Club this evening?” Rosier asked Lestrange as the four of them all started towards their next class, Potions. 

“Yeah. Truly devastating,” he replied sarcastically. 

“What’s Slug Club?” Avalon asked, though she knew all about it from her own time at Hogwarts. The memory of those awkward and formal dinner parties almost made her laugh. 

“Slughorn invites some of us to little meetings every week. It’s his way of keeping tabs on his favorite students. It’s devastatingly boring, but he does give us a fair share of drinks, so I can’t really complain,” Lestrange said. “Maybe you can join us next week. I could bring you as a date.”

“Sounds horrific,” she said with a fake grin.

“Oh, it is,” Lestrange laughed. 

The rest of the day was spent going from class to class. She sat with Zelda for the courses she had with her roommate and with Lestrange for the rest. It proved difficult to learn anything when Lestrange was constantly whispering sweet nothings into her ear during class. As horrifically flirtatious as he was, she found herself still laughing at his jokes every once in a while. She had to remind herself that Lestrange, like Riddle, would one day go down a dark path of pain and destruction. She saw glimpses of it every once in a while-- foreshadows of the demented future he would one day uphold-- but it was much harder for her to hate Lestrange than it was Riddle.

Lestrange simply seemed like nothing more than a hopelessly promiscuous narcissist who had been brainwashed by his family’s prejudices and his friend’s influences. She wanted to believe that he could be saved, though she knew she was simply being naive. 

Riddle on the other hand…she couldn’t allow herself to view him as anything more than Lord Voldemort. She refused to entertain the thought that he could be saved. He was too empty, too hollow, too much of a natural abomination. 

And she hated how well he hid it. She hated how well he had the rest of the school seduced by his smile, his talk, his stare. The whole school bowed before his feet, and the only people who truly realized it were Avalon and Tom themselves. 

She ate dinner with Zelda, and she listened as Zelda gushed about her newfound crush on one of the girls in her Charms class. Apparently, she was a Gryffindor and Zelda was, in her own words, ‘charmed’ by the girl. The lighthearted conversation was a pleasant break for Avalon. Having Riddle on her mind 24/7 was soon becoming a heavy burden to carry, the weight oftentimes feeling exhausting. 

After their meal, Zelda stayed back to chat with some other Ravenclaws, but Avalon excused herself and scurried back to her dorm to take a quick break before detention. It wasn’t until her back hit the mattress on her bed that she realized how truly exhausted she was.

Her mind was swamped with a million thoughts, worries, and plans. She thought about how many lives depended on her successfully completing her mission here. Hermione’s empty eyes flashed in her brain, tearing her apart once more at the reminder of her best friend’s downfall. Harry’s lifeless body crumpling before them as Voldemort struck him with that damn flash of green haunted her. George’s tortured scream when he saw his twin murdered before his very eyes rang through her ears, shattering her heart at just the memory alone. 

She worried about not being strong enough, smart enough, brave enough to succeed. Riddle was dangerous, that much she knew. And getting him to open up to her would not be easy. She wondered if she was going to be capable of that. She had to, there was no other option, but she couldn’t help but think about how much better Hermione would have been at this. Or even Luna. Both of the witches were much better at handling their emotions than Avalon, and she felt a small pang in her heart as she desperately wished she could ask them for help right about now. 

She thought about what her plan had to entail. Get close to Riddle. Find out if he has any Horcruxes-- and if so, how many and what they are. Once she was positive she had all of them, she had to destroy them at once so he wouldn’t have a chance to suspect anything. And then, she had to kill him.

And then what?

She had to find another Time Turner, too. The thought of being stuck here after killing a student in cold blood worried her. She knew she’d be thrown into Azkaban for life if that happened, but she would do it in a heartbeat if she thought it was the only way to save her loved ones. 

Her hands quietly pounded against the wooden frame of her bed, desperate to quell the silence that had surrounded her. 

The sheer weight of her mission hit her like a meteor colliding with the earth, but she did her best to stay focused and calm. She couldn’t afford to think about what would happen if she didn’t succeed. She couldn’t afford to think like that at all. 

Her eyes closed in an attempt to sneak in a quick nap before she had to leave for detention, but despite her exhaustion, her mind was wide awake and barred her from resting. All she was capable of doing was lying in her bed with shut eyes for as long as time allowed, though it did nothing to ease her anxieties or cure her fatigue. She laid there for about half an hour-- though it felt like mere seconds-- before she reluctantly rose from bed, wasting no time to head out the door and towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

Lestrange was there when she arrived, and by the looks of it, he was already trying to persuade Professor Merrythought to let them leave early, which she was not buying into at all. With a huff and groan, he walked over to Avalon. “The things I do for you, honestly.”

“I didn’t ask you to get detention,” she said, though her tone was light-hearted.

“How could I resist spending my evening with you, though?” he said, his sly smile once again easing its way onto his lips. 

“Miss Hendrix,” Merrythought said, turning pointedly to the pair of them, “If you would hand over your wand, please.” Avalon sighed, but drew her wand and walked towards her, placing it on Merrythought’s desk, right next to Xavier’s, and picking up a mop in exchange. “There are mops, buckets, and towels for drying. I don’t expect this will take the two of you more than an hour or two to complete if you work diligently. If you need me I will be two doors down in the Divination classroom. When you’re done, you can come get your wands from me there. Understood?”

“Yes, Professor,” they both grumbled in unison. She nodded at them before striding out of the classroom, leaving them alone with their mops and buckets of water. 

Avalon took the mop and dipped it into the water, begrudgingly beginning the task before them. She couldn’t remember the last time she had done chores manually like this, and it was safe to say that she didn’t miss the memory. Xavier, on the other hand, started to gracefully dance with his mop wrapped in his arms, twirling it around as though it was his partner. 

“Get to work or we’ll be here all night, moron,” she said, holding back a laugh. 

“I’m busy,” he said, waltzing through the classroom with the mop. 

“No, you’re just terribly annoying.”

He stopped dead in his tracks, dropping the mop to the floor almost as quickly as he dropped his jaw. “Now, is that how you speak to the person who just cleaned the entire classroom for you?”

“Last I checked, you’ve cleaned absolutely nothing.”

He lifted the leg of his trousers and pulled out a wand he had tucked into his socks, pointing it at the ground before speaking a proud,  _ ‘Tergeo _ .’ The dust on the ground miraculously began cleaning itself, leaving behind a spotless floor. 

She looked at him with a mixture of admiration and confusion before bursting into laughter. “Who’s wand did you steal?”

“I didn’t  _ steal  _ anything, I  _ borrowed  _ it from Nott.”

“Does he know you borrowed it?”

He shrugged. “He’s at Quidditch tryouts. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

“I see,” she said, placing her mop back in the bucket before taking a seat atop one of the desks. “Well, we can’t tell Professor Merrythought we’re done so soon or she’ll know we used magic.”

“Then I guess we have some time to kill,” he said smugly, walking over and pulling out a chair. He flipped it towards him and sat with his legs spread between the backrest, perching his chin atop as he watched her. “So Avery told me he ran into you last night.”

“He was kind enough to walk me back to Ravenclaw Tower after you abandoned me outside your dorm,” she corrected him.

“Abandoned? I gave you full access-- you just chose to turn it down,” he grinned. 

“Which was, without a doubt, the right choice.”

“I’m hurt,” he said, pressing a hand to his heart. 

“You’ll survive,” she said before deciding to steer the conversation somewhere else. “So, you’re partnered with Rosier for the paper?”

“Unfortunately. Merlin knows he isn’t going to do any of the work. Probably going to attempt to pay some Ravenclaws to write it for us,” he grumbled before remembering who he was talking to. He perked up, “Would you care to have a go at it?”

“Perhaps for all the gold in Gringotts.”

“I could arrange that,” he said, smirking. “I mean, it’s not like you’ll be writing your paper. Being paired with Riddle is like being handed a perfect mark on a silver platter.”

“I don’t think he and I quite see eye to eye.”

“What makes you think that? The fact that the two of you tried to kill each other in class, or something else?” He retorted, feigning confusion.

She laughed, but selected her next words very carefully. “How do you get along with him so well? I need pointers so we don’t murder each other trying to complete this assignment, please.”

He raised an eyebrow and leaned back a little, his eyes remaining locked on her as he shrugged. “You want me to give you pointers on how to get closer with one of my best mates?” She nodded and he laughed. “Yeah? And what’s in it for me, love?”

“The satisfaction of knowing you did a good thing.”

“I’m in detention for you, darling. Satisfaction won’t cut it anymore,” he quipped. 

“Alright, fine,” she grumbled. “How about I accompany you to the next Slug Club meeting?”

“Now we’re talking,” he grinned. “So we have a date next Tuesday at 8?”

“Maybe if you stop blabbering and actually tell me what I want to know.”

He bit his lip, holding back a laugh. He felt himself growing more and more attracted to her every time she gave him another tongue-in-cheek response. Her persistence to keep herself at arms length from him was new for him-- usually the girls he desired simply bent to his will, but he thought, for once, he had finally met his match. The chase invigorated him and sparked a sense of infatuation-- an insatiable lust-- that he needed to cater to. She consumed his thoughts, but he didn’t mind. “Alright. You wanna know how to get along with Riddle? I’ll tell you how to get along with Riddle. Just be yourself.”

“Bullshit.”

He chuckled at her cursing. “I know, who was I kidding? You’re insufferable.”

“Is that why you pine after me?”

“Cheeky girl, you are,” he said, standing up and walking towards her. He bent down a tad so he was eye level with her before he spoke again. “Truth is, I don’t particularly know how you’re supposed to get along with Riddle. Sometimes, I don’t even know if I get along with the bastard.”

“Must be because you’re insufferable,” she said, throwing his words back at him.

“Must be,” he agreed, chuckling. “But in all honesty, just don’t bore him. I doubt that will be an issue with you, seeing as to how you tend to like keeping people on their toes, anyway. And don’t get in his way.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean he’s got plans. Big plans that go far beyond these classes, this school, or any of us, and he won’t let anything get between him and his desire to accomplish what he wants. You’re a smart girl-- you can’t seriously look at a bloke like Riddle and imagine him doing anything mediocre after we leave this place, can you?”

“What could he possibly care so much about, though?” she pried, praying for him to give her something, anything, to work with. 

Lestrange paused before he spoke, as if choosing his words very carefully. “Himself, honestly. He wants to be revered, to live on forever, to be the best there ever was. And I don’t blame him. With a mind like his, it’s all possible.”

She felt her stomach drop at his words. “And how does one live on forever?”

He smiled to himself, like a child who knew a secret that he refused to share. “Souls never die, darling. Only our bodies stand in the way.”

“You mean to tell me he’s discovered a way to preserve the soul?”

For a moment, his smile faltered, but he quickly painted it back onto his lips and shrugged. “I mean to tell you that if I was half the wizard Riddle is, I would have already immortalized myself by now.”

That was it. That was what she wanted to hear. He probably didn’t think she’d pick up on it, writing her off as too naive, too oblivious… but she held onto those words with every ounce of her being. Tom Riddle had already begun making his Horcruxes. She was sure of it. 

“And you see nothing wrong with that?”

He shrugged, trying to play it off, but she had already heard what she needed to. “Don’t you want to have a legacy?”

“I want to be remembered long after I am gone and I want to be remembered for my virtues. Anything else isn’t worth immortalizing.”

“I suppose the two of you would just agree to disagree, then.”

“Perhaps, but only one of us is right.”

“That’s exactly what he would say,” he said, a hint of a smile on his lips. “You two are much more similar than you think. Two stubborn, self-righteous, know-it-alls. Honestly, I don’t know why you think you need my help deciphering him when you’re nearly a spitting image of him, anyway.”

“I am nothing like him,” she said, trying to hide her anger. The thought of being compared to Riddle made her veins fill with fury. He was vile, shallow, and cruel. A weak monster with a thirst for power and an insatiable need for self-preservation. She was nothing like him. She refused to be anything like him. 

“He’d say the same about you,” he grinned before standing up, extending his hand out for her to grab onto. She took it and he helped her off the desk, twirling her around when her feet touched the ground. “Enough about Riddle, though. I’m starting to think you fancy him more than me.”

“And what if I don’t fancy you at all?”

“Always the charmer, you are,” he said, shaking his head. “Say what you will, Hendrix. I know the truth.”

“And that is?”

“That I’m terribly irresistible.”

“What an odd way to say ‘unbearable.’”

“Don’t test me, love. I’m still the only one with a wand here,” he said, waving Rosier’s wand under her nose. She tried to grab it, but he held it up over her head, watching as she struggled to reach it as he towered over her. 

She huffed in annoyance before walking over to a desk and sitting down, watching as he followed her close behind and slid in beside her. As he stretched his arm out to span the back of her chair, she couldn’t help but linger on his words.

‘ _ You two are much more similar than you think.’ _

It made her feel sick, but she tried not to think about it too much. But, as they sat in the classroom and spent the rest of their detention wasting time together, that same sentence kept echoing in her mind. 

And it bothered her more than she could ever care to admit. 


	6. Chapter 6

Avalon sat quietly next to Zelda while the pair listened to Dumbledore lecture in front of the class. The day had felt terribly long. Several Ravenclaws had decided to stay up the night prior until the crack of dawn, and neither Zelda nor Avalon had been able to get a good night’s sleep because of it. 

The lesson was devastatingly dull. They had been watching Dumbledore transform chess pieces for the last hour: queen to king, pawn to knight, bishop to rook, and repeat. Lestrange had already fallen asleep-- his long brown hair covered his eyes just enough to hide his shut lids. Riddle and Rosier sat on either side of him, Rosier busy attempting to balance his wand on the tip of his finger, while Riddle, as usual, was one of the only students actively paying attention. 

He never took notes, but he always watched the Professor with uninterrupted focus. His face was cast in the golden rays of the dying sunset, and his eyes, usually darker than the night sky, were lit by the embers of the evening to be the color of warm coffee. He must have felt her gaze on him, because he turned to look at Avalon, causing her to glance away before their eyes met. 

There were quiet murmurs of disinterested side-conversations hushed throughout the room, yawns bouncing off the walls every couple of minutes as students neared the end of their days. When class finally ended, everyone stood up quickly, packing their things and making their way to the exit as quickly as possible. Rosier hit Lestrange on the back of his head, awakening him with a jolt as he looked around, dazed and disgruntled. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand before he got up and walked over to Zelda and Avalon’s table, though his attention was only directed towards one of the two. 

“Morning, sunshine,” Avalon greeted him smugly. 

He rolled his eyes, still too tired to come up with his usually cheeky responses. “You and Riddle going to the library?” She nodded, but was ridden with lethargy, dreading what was to come after class: she and Riddle having to complete their Defense Against the Dark Arts assignment, just the two of them. “I’m going to go take a nap,” he said, stifling a yawn. “If you finish early, you know where to find me.” Without another word, he walked out the door, Rosier following close behind him. 

Tom stood up and walked over to her table. Zelda watched him approach with weary eyes, though returned his smile when he nodded at her. “Good evening, Shacklebolt,” he said, first greeting Zelda. 

“Good evening, Riddle,” she replied. Her usually lucid voice took a much more poignant tone when she spoke to him. “I’ll see you back at our room later, okay?” she said, speaking to Avalon. 

“I’ll see you then,” Avalon replied, secretly wishing her roommate could join her and Tom in the library and watching in despair as she walked away and out the door. 

“Are you ready to go?” he asked, turning his attention to Avalon, who nodded in response. “Alright, follow me, then.”

“Miss Hendrix?” Avalon and Tom both turned around at the sound of their Professor’s voice. Dumbledore walked up to them and smiled. “Mr. Riddle, would it be alright if I stole Miss Hendrix for a moment. I’d like to talk to her in private, if the two of you are not in a hurry.”

Tom hid his aggravation behind a polite smile and a curt nod. “Of course, Professor,” he said before walking out the door, shutting it behind him. 

Dumbledore waited until he heard the click of the door closing, before he leaned against the mahogany desk behind him and turned his undivided attention towards the fidgety girl standing before him. “Miss Hendrix,” he said slowly. “How have your first days at Hogwarts been thus far?”

“Good, thank you for asking,” she said, cautiously. 

“I see you’ve become acquainted with several of the Slytherins,” he said. His voice was not judgemental, but rather curious. “You’re accompanying Mr. Riddle to the library after this, correct?”

“We are partners for an assignment, sir,” she clarified. 

“Ah, I see,” he mused. “Curious young man, he is. Talented beyond his years.” She didn’t answer, just nodded. His fingers traced along the base of an hourglass he had on the desk as he pondered his next words. “I’ve been thinking back to when you and I first crossed paths. You said to me that you are here to stop someone at this school from doing terrible things.” He paused, his gaze falling back onto hers as he spoke. “May I ask how you intend to change their path?”

His question lingered in the air, unanswered, for several moments. He was patient, waiting for her to sort through the jumbled thoughts that swarmed her mind, though the quiet that he provided unnerved her to no end. A part of her knew that there was no wrong answer when talking to Dumbledore, yet she also knew that there didn’t exist a right one, either. 

“Sir,” she said, watching as he leaned slightly forward as she spoke. “I said it before, as well, but there are some things I simply cannot tell you.”

“Ah, yes, of course,” he said, an all-knowing smile brushed across his face. “I suppose we all have our secrets.”

Her mouth was dry and her fingernails were digging into the palms of her hands. She couldn’t seem to find the right words and for once, silence seemed like the better of two options, but she spoke nonetheless. “Professor, I assure you… I will never do anything that is not absolutely necessary. I am only here to ensure that an unforgivable darkness is stopped.”

“The thing about darkness, Miss Hendrix, is that it cannot be fixed with more darkness. Only the light can expel it.”

“Not all things in life can be so simple, sir.”

“No things ever are. Which is why the most terrible acts are oftentimes committed by the hands of someone who has had terrible things happen to them.”

“That is no excuse for their actions.”

“Not an excuse, my dear. Only an explanation, a means of understanding.” He kept her gaze, his eyes gentle and forgiving. “I only wish to remind you that there are ways to change a path without burning the road.”

She broke their stare, grabbing her things abruptly before she spoke. “With all due respect, sir, I must be getting to the library.”

“Of course. Tell Mr. Riddle I apologize for keeping him waiting,” he said, watching her intently as she scrambled to exit the class as quickly as she could. Her head was spinning, though she wasn’t sure if it was with anger, annoyance, or anxiety. The future headmaster had always held a soft spot in her heart for his vague drops of wisdom, though at that moment, she would’ve done anything to have forgotten their entire conversation. 

She didn’t need a lesson on morality from someone who had no idea what the future held. Dumbledore didn’t know about the death that would plague their lives. Even he, himself, would one day lose his life to the greed of Lord Voldemort’s choices. She desperately wished she could tell him what she was up against-- what they were all up against-- so she could see that smile wipe off his mouth and be replaced with fear for what is to come, and disgust at who will cause it. 

All bad things in life led back to Voldemort-- to Tom Riddle. 

She didn’t care what horrors he had witnessed that caused him to become such an empty shell of a human. She didn’t care if the world had been so cruel to him, that he chose to be cruel back. She didn’t care about any of it.

Because she knew so many people-- kindhearted people-- who had been hurt time and time again by the world and its inhabitants, yet still held dearly to their virtues with their last dying breaths. Harry’s face came to mind. She thought about how he had, from birth, been exposed to the darkest parts of humanity, and yet spent every last second of his existence fighting for good, for decency, and for light. 

No, having a tough life was no excuse. It wasn’t even an explanation. The only explanation was that Tom Riddle was a weak-minded individual with only enough love in his heart for himself. And she pitied him, honestly. 

Just not enough to forgive him. 

When she looked around the empty hallway outside the Transfiguration classroom, she wasn’t surprised to find Riddle had already left to go to the library. She hadn’t expected him to wait for her. So, she scurried over towards her destination, eager to get as far away from her apparently all-knowing professor as possible. 

As she walked to the library, she tried to ignore the pointed glares that were shot her way every time she passed a group of other students. Her reputation had already made rounds through the school: the Durmstrang transfer who nearly killed Tom Riddle during class.

Admittedly, not her finest look. She knew that she would have to make an effort to get on Riddle’s good side if she was ever going to fully succeed at her mission, but it was proving to be more challenging than she had thought. Containing herself around him was tough. How is one supposed to look evil in the eyes and feign a smile?

She finally made her way to the library and walked in, scanning the area for her partner. It didn’t take her very long to find him, his back turned to her so she could just see his Slytherin robes and wavy black hair standing amid one of the dimly lit aisles. She approached him slowly, her footsteps echoing through the quiet building as she strode towards him, watching him scan the books he faced. His fingers danced across the spines of the books before he settled on one, pulling it out and leaning against the shelf as he opened up to a page near the center. 

He didn’t look up as she neared him, but he did speak directly to her, his voice just quiet enough to not cause a disturbance to the other students. “I found a couple of books that mention the Unforgivables and placed them on the table over there,” he said, motioning towards a table with two chairs he had placed his things atop. 

She walked to the table and set her things down before taking out one of the chairs and sitting down. It only took her a moment to scan the books on the table and raise an eyebrow in his direction. “All of these are from the Restricted Section.”

“Prefects have access,” he said casually, not looking up from the page he was reading. “Do you have any preference on which Curse you want to write about?”

“Not particularly. Do you?”

“I think the Cruciatus Curse is the most interesting of the three.” He spoke nonchalantly, though she swore she noticed a glimmer of enjoyment as his eyes scanned across the book in his hands. He closed it shut and walked over to the table, taking the seat across from her and watching her curiously. “I’ve never seen Professor Dumbledore’s interest peaked by someone outside of Gryffindor before. And on their third day, no less.”

“He merely wished to ask me how I was liking Hogwarts so far,” she shrugged.

“Is that why it took so long?” he asked, as if daring her to admit otherwise. 

“Indeed. My apologies if your patience was too short lived to wait it out.”

He noted the slight irritation in her voice. It wasn’t difficult to get under her skin, that much was fairly obvious to him. She had quite the temper on that head of hers, and as much as he would love to push her further, he decided to drop the subject before she got too aggravated. He did still want to get her to open up to him about her knowledge of Dark Magic, and it would prove to be difficult if her incessant hatred for him persisted. He only wished she weren’t so easily agitated. 

She, on the other hand, tried her hardest to bite her tongue before she said anything too harsh to him. He was terribly cold and she found it harder and harder to envision any pathway to a forced friendship between the two of them, even if that seemed to be her best opportunity to get him to trust her with the information she so desperately needed. 

The two of them sat in silence in the library, both calculating their next moves on how to get the other to trust them. She finally broke the quiet by asking, “How exactly does one find the Cruciatus Curse ‘interesting,’ may I ask?”

He shrugged. “There are accounts written by people who have survived its strain. The way they describe it is incredible.”

“There is nothing incredible about torture, Riddle,” she replied solemnly.

“So what would you care to call the spells you used on me in class, then? I can give you  _ my _ account and assure you they weren’t a walk in the park.”

“What I did to you in class is nowhere near the pain that the Cruciatus Curse would have caused you,” she said, struggling to keep her voice level.

“And how would you know that?” he asked. She went quiet, and he raised his eyebrow. “Have you experienced it?”

“I don’t have to have experienced it to know of its severity,” she said, though for once, her voice did not sound as bold as she had hoped. Her palms burned with the sting of her fingernails slicing deep into her flesh, though she barely noticed the pain. She was too blinded by her fury to focus on anything other than his unnervingly calm face. 

“It seems to me you have more ‘experience’ than you let on,” he said, his eyes shooting a pointed glance at the scars peeking out from beneath her robes. She felt her cheeks flush red as she quickly pushed her sleeves down, hiding as much of the disfigured skin as she could. Each one held a story of pain, loss, and suffering that she wished so desperately that she could rid herself of. That wretched day would forever be ingrained into her memory as one of the darkest times of her life. The look of joy on the Death Eater’s faces as they mutilated her skin time and time again, each cut going deeper than the last as punishment for not answering their questions. She still remembered how she had tried to scrub them off in the bath months after she and Hermione had been rescued. She scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed until her entire body was burning with little specks of fresh blood seeping through her worn out skin, though the scars were still there no matter how she tried. 

If stares could be weapons, Tom would be bleeding under her gaze. She looked at him with a hatred that he had never seen before. An intensity that burned so strong that he knew it couldn’t be just random predisposition. 

Her knuckles were white from how hard she was clenching her own fists, and Tom didn’t think she even realized it. He sighed. “Care to enlighten me on why you’ve despised me since the moment you’ve met me, Hendrix?” His voice broke her out of her thoughts, though she didn’t answer him. She knew she was doing a bloody awful job at hiding her distaste for him, but she still was holding onto the notion that she needed to get him to trust her. He rolled his eyes and motioned at her still clenched fists. “Like I said, you’re terrible at hiding your emotions. So, out with it.”

“I’ll drop my act when you drop yours,” she finally said after a moment of hesitation. It was his turn to be taken aback, so she kept speaking, taking advantage of the slight frown on his features. “You don’t expect me to buy the whole facade, do you? I pray you don’t think so little of me.” For once, the faint smile on his lips fully wiped away. His face reflected his empty eyes, a look of disinterest washing over him as he gave up on trying to charm her, knowing once and for all that she would not fall victim to the same tactics he used on everyone else. Instead, she smiled, a hint of achievement in her eyes as she saw his walls crumble, if just by a little. “That’s more like it. Am I finally meeting the real Tom Riddle?”

He ignored her question, instead asking her, “Care to finally tell me how you came to know so much about Dark Magic?”

She realized, at that point, that he was after her knowledge. All this time, she knew that he must want something from her, though she wasn’t exactly sure what. She cursed herself for being so oblivious. Of course he wanted to learn about the magic she had used. There was some pride in realizing that one of the most powerful wizards of all time wanted to learn from her, although she tried not to let it go to her head too much. She smiled to herself, knowing that she had leverage over him now. 

“Are you forgetting that I transferred from Durmstrang?” He could try all he wanted, but she’d be damned before she gave him the knowledge he so desperately desired. She had learned her fair share of Dark Magic from the Death Eaters. There were very few spells she would refuse to use. Despite what Dumbledore may have wanted her to believe, she had learned over the years that they didn’t live in a perfect world: darkness cannot be fought by the light. In this life, there is only power. There are those who seek it, and those who shy from it. She refused to lose a battle for being too scared to use it. 

He rolled his eyes. “You don’t expect me to buy that, do you? I pray  _ you _ don’t think so little of  _ me _ ,” he shot back. “I looked in every book I could find. That kind of magic wouldn’t be taught at schools.”

“Perhaps not here, but Grindelwald attended-”

He cut her off, “Grindelwald was expelled. Come on, Hendrix, if you want honesty from me, I expect the same in return. Tell me how you learned that magic.”

She looked him dead in the eyes before she spoke. “I’ve picked it up over time. You are not the only one living through a war right now.”

“Is this the same war that gave you those scars?”

She laughed a bit, though there was no humor in her voice. The way he was so fixated on wounds that he didn’t even realize his own followers would one day inflict on her… she didn’t think he’d even care if he did know. He was leaned back in his chair as he spoke, the dim lights of the library illuminating his features just enough to light up his amusement, but cast shadows over his agitation each time she dodged a question. “Why so curious?”

“I simply don’t like being lied to,” he said, his eyes cold and analytical. “Additionally, I want to make sure Lestrange isn’t getting in bed with the wrong sort.”

“I don’t like being lied to, either, Riddle. And despite what he may hope, I’m not getting in bed with him-- not that it’s any of your business.” She rolled her eyes before turning her attention back to the book before her. “Get to work, I’d like to finish this as soon as possible.”

“That makes two of us,” he said, his usual smile returning back to his lips as he saw a pair of students walk past them to sit at a nearby table.

They spent a total of four hours in the library-- time passed much slower than either of them had hoped due to the constant bickering that occurred any time either one presented an idea for the paper. They disagreed on virtually everything, resulting in a process where they would write one sentence, delete the two prior, then repeat. By the time they had finished, both of them were so agitated that Tom stood up without another word and left, leaving her there to pack her things and walk back to Ravenclaw Tower alone-- not that she minded. 

When she arrived back at her dormitory, she was exhausted. Zelda was already in bed, finishing up her readings for her Charms class. They greeted each other with smiles, but neither spoke. There was a comfortable quiet between them as Avalon changed into a satin nightgown that fell just below her mid-thigh. The maroon fabric fluttered as she walked over to the mirror on her desk. She was brushing her dark hair when Zelda’s voice disrupted her thoughts. “I like your nightgown.”

Avalon looked over at her and smiled. “Thank you.”

“It’s much different than mine, though much prettier, in my opinion,” Zelda said, looking down at her own ankle length cotton dress. “Do most girls at Durmstrang wear those to bed?”

It hadn’t occurred to Avalon that many of the clothes she had picked out from the Room of Requirement were reminiscent of her style back home, perhaps not quite the ordinary for the 1940s. Still, she lightly laughed and nodded. “Oh yes, these are all the rage right now.”

“Maybe I should get myself one,” she said, before turning her attention back to her studies. 

Avalon climbed into bed and pulled the sheets over her body, snuggling up with a pillow as she thought about her day. She decided to take it as a small victory that Riddle had opened up to her today-- not in the way she had hoped, but at least he was being less guarded around her. The way his face shifted from charismatic to cold in the blink of an eye was off putting to her. It was as though he had a switch that he could turn on and off, deciding when he wished to present himself as a well-loved student versus a stone-cold sorcerer. His ability to flip between the two at will was unsettling, and seeing him shift between his two personas reminded her of how everything about him was nothing more than a beautifully crafted lie that he displayed to the world around him. He stole adoration, never earned it, by hiding his true nature and portraying nothing more than carefully selected charm and assiduous magnetism that was impossible to resist.

If she hadn’t known better, she may have even fallen victim to his ability to contort his own persona into one of a charming young man, viewed as nothing more than a bright mind atop a pretty face. But, she did know better. She knew that that boy was in the midst of his own origin story, writing his own demise with every passing day and sealing his fate as the creator of the darkest story history had ever told. 

The overwhelming exhaustion in her body every night made it easy enough to fall asleep, however, quelling her thoughts proved to be her biggest challenge. Though, slowly, she felt her eyes drifting shut and her mind shutting down as the nighttime dreams overtook her senses. 

She managed to get in an hour or so of sleep before she was woken up by annoyed voices grumbling in the room next door. Her eyes groggily opened to be greeted by Zelda sitting up, an equally unhappy look plastered on her roommates face. 

They both jumped at the sound of a rock flying into their window. Zelda bolted up, the dark circles under her eyes exceptionally prominent as she sent a glance over at the clock by her bed, noting the late hour. “What was that?”

Just as they were about to lie back down and forget their curiosities, another loud crash collided with the glass, jolting both of them further out of their slumber. Avalon muttered a string of incoherent profanities as she got out of bed, grabbed her wand from under her pillow, and walked over to the window, cracking it open and leaning out to get a view of the area around them. She peered over the edge and spotted Lestrange at the base of the tower, his friends not too far behind him. When his gaze landed on her, she saw him turn to his friends and point at her window, his face beaming with achievement. He tried yelling something, but she couldn’t hear him over the sound of the wind rustling through her window. 

All she saw was him pointing his wand at something in his hand before a crumpled up piece of paper flew up into the sky and floated up to her window. Zelda walked over, rubbing her eyes tiredly as she looked between Avalon and the paper dangling in the air before them. “What is that?”

Avalon sighed and grabbed it, unraveling it carefully to reveal a handwritten note that simply read, _ ‘Come to the base of the Tower.-XL’. _

“It’s from Xavier,” she grumbled, letting out a mixture of a yawn and a sigh as she spoke. 

“This is new, even for him,” Zelda said, slowly making her way back into her bed. Her voice was groggy as she spoke. “I’m going back to bed. Can you tell him that next time, he should send the note without the rock?”

“Will do. Sorry, Z,” she said as she grabbed a thick wool coat and the closest pair of boots she could find, before slipping both on, stuffing her wand into the pocket of her coat, and stumbling out of the room and down the stairs to the base of the Tower. 

When she walked outside, she wrapped her coat tightly against her body, covering up against the chilling autumn breeze as she neared Lestrange. His green eyes lit up when he saw her and he ran over, picking her up and spinning her around under the starlight. “Hello, darling.”

She waited until her feet were planted back on the ground before she swatted at his chest, still grumpy from being bothered at this late hour. “Why was I woken up?”

“Because I missed your bright and sunny disposition, of course,” he said, laughing as she threw him another glare. 

“You woke up my roommate, too,” she said, rolling her eyes. 

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, holding back a smile. “I actually didn’t know which window was yours so I may have woken up the entire Tower before I found your room.”

“You’re an absolute idiot,” she said, but admittedly, even she found it a tad bit funny. 

“I never stated otherwise,” he shrugged before bending over and pressing a kiss to her cheek, though she couldn’t help but scrunch her nose at the smell of wine reeking on his breath. 

“You’ve been drinking,” she stated. 

“And you haven’t. Let’s change that,” he said smirking, dragging her towards the rest of the group. She recognized Riddle and Rosier, obviously, but also saw the boy that had walked her back to Ravenclaw Tower after her night with Lestrange, Orion Avery, his blond hair turned to the side as he spoke to another boy and girl. Avalon glanced briefly towards Riddle, but he was at the back of the group with a stoic look on his face as he gazed up towards the sky. Lestrange whistled at one of his friends. “Mulciber, pass the bottle here!”

A tall, athletic looking boy with long black hair tied back into a low hanging bun walked over, his movements clearly hindered by the bottle he lazily carried in his hands. Just as Lestrange was about to yank the alcohol out from the other boy’s fingers, it was pulled away all too suddenly as the boy spoke, looking at Avalon. “Aren’t you going to introduce us all, Lestrange?”

“Pardon me, where are my manners?” Xavier said dramatically. “Hear ye, hear ye, gather round friends.” The others made their way over, closing the gap between them. “Everyone, meet the lovely Avalon Hendrix. Avalon, you already had the displeasure of meeting Riddle, Rosier, and Avery.” She gave a quick smile to Avery, who had finally spotted her and flashed her a bright grin in return, running a hand through his blond hair as he pushed it away from his eyes. Lestrange pointed at the boy with the bottle. “This is Demitri Mulciber, part time Chaser for Slytherin’s Quidditch team, full time wine provider for yours truly.”

“Lovely to finally meet you,” Mulciber said, slurring over his own words a tad. 

Xavier then motioned towards the other boy, whose sandy brown curls and light blue eyes were perched atop a lean athletic body, and Avalon noticed the petite blond girl attached at his hip. “And, here, we have the golden boy of the hour, Axel Nott. Our prized Seeker, Captain, and Rosalie’s prized fuckbo-”

The blond girl cut him off, her shrill voice unnecessarily loud as she hissed, “Xavier!”

Lestrange cackled, shrugging. “My most sincere apologies, Miss Greengrass. Allow me to correct myself: Rosalie’s prized boyfriend.” Both Axel and Rosalie smiled towards her, though Nott’s seemed a lot more sincere than his girlfriend’s. Finally, Lestrange pointed at a girl standing at the back of the group, close to Riddle, with radiant dark skin and grey eyes that glistened like venom under the moonlight. She had long black hair that flowed down past her shoulders in elegant waves and a fleet of twinkling jewels sitting atop her fingers. The way she stood exuded poise and dignity, and she presented herself with a certain air of both delicacy and authority. She was, without a doubt, one of the most beautiful girls that Avalon had ever laid eyes on, and she found herself unnerved by the girl’s steady gaze. “Last, but certainly not least, Miss Daddy’s Money herself, Kyra Patil.”

Avalon was surprised to hear the last name Patil attached to a Slytherin. She thought about Padma and Parvati, their loyalties to Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, and how they risked their lives fighting alongside Avalon and her friends when they were needed most. The girl standing before her reflected their beauty, but lacked their compassionate eyes, their kind smiles, and their joyous laughs. 

“You’re hardly one to talk about Daddy’s Money, Lestrange,” Kyra said, her voice tantalizingly slow yet mesmerizing and alluring, her beauty easily reflecting through the tone of her words. She nodded towards Avalon, a glisten of mischief in her eyes. “It’s a pleasure.”

“Nice to meet you all,” Avalon said, another yawn escaping her lips mid sentence. She looked towards Xavier again, lowering her voice when she spoke to him. “Why am I here?”

“For a night you’ll never forget, my dear. Why else?” he said, pushing the bottle to his lips as he took several long gulps of the blood red wine despite his words already beginning to slur together. As soon as he lowered it, the bottle refilled, surely charmed to never run dry. He put a finger under her chin and lifted her gaze to meet his, a smile painting onto his face. “Now drink up, darling. We have a long night ahead of us.”

He tried to put the bottle up to her lips, but she turned her face just in time. “It’s a Wednesday, Xavier, we have classes tomorrow.”

“And yet you still drank with me on Monday? Bad girl,” he said, once again offering up the bottle to her. 

She sighed and took it this time. “Alright. Just one drink.”

“Famous last words. Bottoms up.” 

The bottle felt cool against her lips as she took a short swig, making sure not to drink too much in case he had charmed the drink to be extra potent again. The moment she lowered the bottle from her lips, he grabbed it back, taking another long drink from the refilling pitcher. 

She wrapped her coat around her as tight as she could, the chill of the night air sending a shiver down her spine. It became more and more apparent to her that she was the only one not dressed for the cool outdoors. 

“Quit hogging the bottle, Lestrange,” Nott called out, jogging over and snagging the bottle from his friend’s grasp before taking several long gulps of the wine. 

“Wanker wraps up Quidditch tryouts today and suddenly thinks he owns the place,” Lestrange said, motioning towards Nott with a laugh. He turned around to face the group, clapping his hands together. “Alright, ladies and gentlemen, onward. Let’s not waste this lovely night!”

He took Avalon’s hand and began dragging her along with the group despite her protests. “Where are we going? I’m not even dressed to go out.”

“It’s a surprise.”

“And what if we get caught? It’s past curfew.”

“That’s why we have a Prefect with us,” he shrugged.

“And you think that’s a good enough excuse?”

“You ask too many questions,” he said, continuing his stride. The rest of the group followed in suit, laughter and chatter erupting within them. Avalon looked around, watching the others curiously. The two girls, Rosalie and Kyra, were walking together, giggling about Merlin knows what, while Axel and Tom chatted quietly behind them. Avalon quickly noticed Kyra kept glancing over at Tom, though he didn’t seem to pay her any attention in return. 

They walked through the grounds, almost running into the groundskeeper on several occasions yet avoiding him narrowly time and time again. The chill of the air quickly woke Avalon, ridding her of any hope she had of returning to her warm slumber. Despite her early irritation, she knew that this was a good chance for her to truly integrate herself into Riddle’s inner circle, so she tried to push her negativity aside and make the most of the night.

Lestrange led the pack, weaving his way around as though he’d made this trek several times before. He wasted no time taking Avalon’s hand in his own and entwining their fingers, the back of his thumb rubbing circles into her skin as they walked. His movements were sloppy and he nearly tumbled over his own feet a couple of times, but he still had a sense of inextinguishable confidence about him as he walked. She noticed he was significantly more intoxicated tonight than he had been when it had been just the two of them. In fact, nearly everyone in the pack seemed to be pretty inebriated with the exceptions of Tom, Orion, and Kyra. 

Despite the countless times he almost landed on his face, Lestrange still managed to lead them towards the edge of the Black Lake before they all settled on the grassy bank, overlooking the glimmering water under the starlit infinity. 

There was a certain peace enveloping them. A drunken group of friends, lounging by the water on a completely ordinary weekday, wasting their night underneath the kiss of the moon, their voices and laughs mixing into one harmonious symphony. She almost felt a smile creeping onto her lips as the bottle was passed over to her again and she took a drink, listening to Xavier ramble on about something completely mundane yet miraculously entertaining, but that smile faded when she remembered where she was.

Who she was with.

Why she was there.

To an outsider, they just looked like an ordinary circle of friends, enjoying their youth, breaking some rules, and making some memories. But, any time her eyes landed on him, she remembered that she was living and breathing during his origin story: the rise of the darkest wizard to have ever lived. 

He was leaning up against a tree, not partaking in the conversations going on around him. The night’s light bounced off his cheeks just enough to illuminate his stone-set features. His dark eyes met hers, and she was both relieved and unnerved that he didn’t bother to fake a smile in her direction. For once, he broke their stare first, focusing his vision instead on the lake.

Avalon felt a mop of curly hair find a home in her lap as Xavier leaned down and placed his head atop her legs. He grinned with his eyes near shut, a dream-like gaze sewn onto his face as he looked up at her. “A penny for your thoughts, love?”

“Just admiring the view,” she lied, smiling towards the lake. “And you?”

“As am I,” he said, keeping his eyes glued on her. “Are you still mad that I woke you up?”

She brushed a piece of his hair out from in front of his eyes, a faint smile lingering on her lips as she joked, “I’m absolutely livid.”

He grinned, his gaze darkening with seductive desire. “Then you’ll have to allow me to make it up to you.”

She leaned forward, just a bit, and tilted her head. “And how would you plan on doing that?”

His hands danced up the side of her coat until his fingers met her lapel, which he lightly tugged on as he watched her lips. “Let’s have a peak under here and I’ll tell you some ideas.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but an excited scream and a splash of water landing on her feet startled her and Xavier, shifting their attention towards Mulciber, who had dove head first into the lake, catapulting himself off of the dock in one swift, yet sloppy, movement. His head bobbed out from under the dark waves and he shook his head vigorously, whipping the frigid water out of his wet hair. 

“See? Told you,” Mulciber yelled towards Rosier. “No merpeople!”

“You’re a bloody imbecile, you know that right?” Rosier shouted back. 

“So I’ve been told. Now don’t leave me alone here. Come on, water’s not even that cold,” he said as he floated peacefully in the water, his soaking wet clothes drifting around him. 

“Absolutely not,” Rosier said, lowering himself back onto the grass and admiring the stars above. 

Mulciber turned his focus to Lestrange. “Oi, Romeo! Take a break from trying to get into Hendrix’s pants and come join the fun.”

Xavier laughed, sitting up and pushing himself off the ground. “Listen, darling, I’m afraid I’ll have to pass this time. But, Avalon is dying to join you.” Without a moment’s hesitation, he scooped Avalon up off of the ground, holding her against his chest so tightly that she could barely move against his grasp. 

“Xavier, let me down!” she screamed, trying to shove him off of her, but to no avail, desperately clawing at his skin as he ran towards the dock. 

He paused for just a brief moment as he looked into her eyes with a mischievous grin and said, “Forgive me, love,” before tossing her into the lake. 

She couldn’t even yell anything in time before the cold water hit her skin and her head submerged into the Great Lake. Her limbs flailed furiously as she clawed her way back to the surface under the weight of her saturated coat, gasping for air when she breached the top. Mulciber looked between her and Lestrange before bursting into laughter at the sight of her eyes, burning in anger. “Someone’s going to be sleeping with an empty bed tonight,” he said, nearly choking on his own cackle. 

Lestrange was doubled over on the dock, finding nothing but humor in the way she was glaring daggers his way. He laughed so hard that a couple of tears threatened to spill out of the corners of his eyes and he had to grab his stomach in an attempt to quell his own joy. He looked at her and flashed his usual partially arrogant, partially endearing smile. “You have to admit, it was a tad funny.”

“Hilarious,” she said before she swam back over to the dock and extended her hand, motioning for him to help her out of the water. He bent down and reached out, ready to pull her out, before she quickly flicked her wrist towards herself in one swift motion and a gust of strong air launched him into the water with one massive splash. 

The entire group burst into laughter as Xavier rose back to the surface, coughing water as he choked for air. He looked at her with a mixture of admiration and betrayal before swimming over and shaking his head. “I always forget you know wandless magic.”

“Then perhaps it would be wise of you to remember from now on,” she said before flicking her finger towards him and having him submerge under the water again. Her eyes widened when she felt a tug on her leg, though, and he dragged her down with him. 

They both rose back to the surface moments later, laughing and coughing as they let the air flow back into their lungs. Xavier wrapped his arms around her from behind and pulled her against him as they floated peacefully in the chilling water.

By that point, Axel had already jumped into the water too, dragging his screaming girlfriend in along with him, despite her protests. Adonis, Kyra, Orion, and Tom sat on the grass, Riddle being the only one who wasn’t engaged in their quiet conversation. Kyra kept stealing quick glances at him, though he had his eyes glued to Avalon.

He hadn’t met any other students who were as skilled at wandless and wordless magic as he was, so her talents came as a bit of a surprise to him. He found himself growing more and more determined to get her to open up to him in an attempt to learn about how she developed her skills. He wondered if perhaps Lestrange would have more luck getting her to talk than he would, and he made a mental note to tell Xavier to do some digging for him. 

She was actually laughing, for once, and he didn’t think she was acting. Her cold exterior had melted, if only a little, and she seemed to be enjoying herself, with Lestrange of all people. He supposed he wasn’t too shocked, seeing as to how Lestrange was an expert at seducing his targets, though a part of Tom had thought that Hendrix might not have fallen for Lestrange’s tactics. It was a bit disappointing, really, to think about how ordinary she was, no different than the rest, but he wasn’t going to lose sleep over the thought. 

Avalon felt Lestrange plant a kiss onto the top of her head as he floated behind her, his warm breath a welcomed contrast against the cool night air. One of his hands guided her body to turn towards his as he hoisted her legs around his waist, keeping the two of them afloat as he lazily stared into her eyes. His gaze was foggy from the alcohol and his words were slurred, but he smiled and pushed a piece of her wet hair out from in front of her face to get an unobstructed look into her eyes. “You are unreal,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. His words always sounded almost too rehearsed, like he had perfected them with practice, but for once, she sensed a bit of sincerity in his breathless tone. 

She laughed. “Now don’t get all soft on me.”

He raised an eyebrow and looked her body up and down, a smirk finding its way onto his lips as he stared at how her coat had opened just enough to expose her maroon nightgown beneath, clinging to her skin under the weight of the water. “Darling, trust me. I’m not.”

She rolled her eyes and pulled her body away from his, swimming back towards the dock. “And, you’ve ruined it.”

“Oh come on, love,” he said, stifling a laugh as he began to follow her. 

She hoisted herself out of the lake, her clothes immediately sticking to her form as the water dripped down, suddenly exposing her to the chilling night air with nothing to warm her but her soaked nightgown and coat. 

Lestrange bit his lip as he took note of the way the silken fabric clung to her form and started to exit the water, as well, when Mulciber grabbed him from behind and dragged him right back into the lake. “You are not leaving me in the lake with Nott and his prissy girlfriend,” he hissed, shoving Xavier back underwater. 

Avalon laughed a bit to herself before she made her way towards the shoreline. She looked towards the others, lounging on the grass, but a pointed hostile glare from Kyra made her choose to walk towards a boulder on the shore. Her teeth began to clatter against themselves as the cold night took its toll against her, so she reached into her coat pocket to grab her wand, only to realize it had fallen out in the lake. She quickly turned towards the water and stated a quick  _ ‘Accio’ _ before her wand came flying out from beneath the water and into her grasp. 

She took her coat off carefully and placed it atop the boulder, drying it off with a quick spell, desperate to feel its warmth once more. 

Tom watched her carefully, his face set in stone. Her nightgown-- if he could even call it that-- was so short it barely went past her thighs, and the water made it cling to her figure while she worked away at her coat. It didn’t look like anything he had ever seen any woman wear. It was too short, too thin, and too open for most, but she didn’t seem to think twice about how she looked to the rest of them. Confidence was not something that she lacked. He glanced at Lestrange briefly, noticing the hungry way he was eyeing Hendrix as though she was nothing more than his next meal. He knew the other girls were watching her, too. Rosalie kept shooting glances at Nott to make sure he wasn’t staring, which he made sure not to, and Kyra was watching with ice in her eyes. If nothing else, he admired Hendrix’s ability to aggravate everyone around her without even trying-- she truly had a talent for that. 

Avalon felt as though she was being watched intently, and turned around just in time to see Riddle glance the other way. She lost her focus, forgetting her coat was dry, and stared in his direction for a moment. 

She soon heard footsteps approaching and noticed Avery sheepishly walking her way. He smiled at her and bent down, picking up her coat before placing it on her shoulders carefully, making sure to keep his eyes on her own. “Wouldn’t want you catching a cold now, would we?” She smiled and pulled it around herself tightly before sitting down on the rock it had been placed on. He sat beside her, his kind eyes locked on hers. “How have you been?”

“I’m alright,” she answered. “Not entirely sure how I ended up here, but not too unhappy about it either.”

“Lestrange wouldn’t shut up until we went and fetched you,” he admitted. “Are you cold?”

She was, but she shook her head. “No, I’m okay.” He paused for a moment before taking off his own coat and placing it around her shoulders. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he said before something caught his eye in the distance. She followed his gaze and saw a couple of thestrals flying off in the sky, their bony wings reflecting the moonlight off their leathery skin. 

“You see them, too?” she asked, catching him off guard. 

“Do you?” 

She nodded, watching as the others laughed and joked under the moonlight, all of them oblivious to them. She and Orion watched as the winged creatures flew further and further, until they were visible no more. 

He didn’t speak for a few moments, but when he did, his voice was quiet. “It was my sister. Lost her three years ago. Was supposed to be her first year at Hogwarts, but she fell ill and we couldn’t save her.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, but she knew apologies were useless when facing loss.

He shrugged. “I’ve healed. Still miss her, though. That will never change.”

She nodded, thinking of those she had lost. “I first started seeing them after I saw my friend’s godfather die,” she said, thinking back to Sirius’s death, when she watched him fall through the misty Veil at the Ministry. After that, she lost track of how many others she had to watch die before her eyes. Each one hurt more than the last. She wasn’t sure if she could handle losing anyone else. Her heart hurt just thinking about it. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, but he, too, knew his words wouldn’t help. “I like to think that they’re in a better place. You know, with flowers and chocolate and all the things that aren’t wrong with this world.”

She smiled at the thought of a better place waiting for them, but it didn’t matter much to her as of now. Her friends shouldn’t be dead. And soon enough, when she was done with Riddle, they wouldn’t be. 

“Lestrange being alright to you?” he asked, changing the subject.

“He’s being… Lestrange,” she shrugged. 

“I can’t tell if that’s a good or bad thing,” he laughed, and it was infectious. She found herself calm around him. He was different from the others. Kinder, more attentive, less intrusive. A part of her wondered how he had gotten caught up in their group.

“Avery, you trying to steal Hendrix away from me?” Lestrange called out as he sauntered over, his clothes still dripping wet as he exited the lake and stumbled over his own steps. He had managed to grab the bottle of wine again and was taking another long drink when Orion got up and grabbed it from him.

“Alright, that’s enough for tonight,” he said, earning an annoyed pout from Xavier. 

Xavier’s eyes were so hazy that they were nearly closed, his movements sloppy and his speech slurred as he came up behind Avalon and tried to wrap his arms around her. 

She stopped him before he could. “Not until I dry you off,” she said, and he laughed. 

“Alright, alright. Work your magic, darling,” he grinned, holding his arms out and standing still as she dried him off with her wand. He wasted no time after, wrapping his arms around her from behind and resting his chin atop her head.

Avalon looked back at the rest of the group and noticed that Tom and Kyra had disappeared. She whipped her head around, trying to spot them, but they were nowhere to be seen. Nott and his girlfriend approached the group, both of them dried off after their swim, and Rosalie spoke. “We’re going to go for a walk around the grounds.”

Axel’s cheeks were flushed red from the drinks but he offered up a tired smile and nodded. “See you all around. Have a nice night, you oafs.”

Mulciber was the only one still in the water, yet he managed to shout. “Is the party over?”

“It appears so, my dear friend. It appears so,” Xavier called back as his friend climbed out of the lake slowly, nearly falling back in as he tried to hoist himself out. Mulciber attempted to stand up, but his legs were failing him from the sheer amount of liquor he had consumed. 

“Rosier, give me a hand will you?” he yelled, his words so slurred that Rosier almost didn’t understand him. Regardless, he walked over to the drunk and helped him to his feet, slinging Mulciber’s arms around his own shoulders as the two of them began walking back over to the rest of the group. 

Avalon turned to Xavier. “I should get back to my dormitory.”

He groaned and shook his head. “Walk me back to Slytherin.”

“Aren’t the boys supposed to walk the girls back?”

“No, the sobers are supposed to walk the drunks back,” he quipped, a wide grin plastered onto his face. She rolled her eyes but when she tried to walk away, he grabbed her by her wrist and pulled her back against him. “Please, darling.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but gave in. “Fine, I’ll walk back with you.”

He seemed satisfied, and they rejoined the others. Rosier and Avery were both busy trying to prop Mulciber up, who at this point was essentially dead weight. Avery saw the two of them approaching and motioned towards the castle grounds. “You lot ready to head back?”

They nodded in unison, and began heading back towards the castle and into the dungeons. It took longer than they had hoped-- Mulciber had to stop twice to vomit. Avalon was just grateful Xavier was holding his own, even if his feet were barely lifting off the ground with each step he took. He was being more quiet than usual and she blamed it on the alcohol hindering his thoughts, but she took it as a bit of a blessing. 

When they entered the castle, Avery looked at Rosier. “Do you think you can handle taking Mulciber back?”

“Where are you off to?” Rosier asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I forgot I need something from the library,” he shrugged.

“At this hour?”

“It’s for class tomorrow,” Orion said shortly. 

Rosier rolled his eyes but nodded. “Yeah, I’ve got him.”

“Wicked,” Avery grinned before turning his attention to Avalon and Xavier. “You alright with Lestrange?”

“I can hear you, Avery,” Lestrange said. Orion ignored him.

“Yeah, we’re fine.” She paused for a moment and took off his coat, which was still wrapped around her shoulders, handing it back to him with a smile which he graciously returned. “Thank you, again. I’ll see you around,” she said, waving to him as he walked the other way down the corridor and they continued on to their destination. Getting Lestrange and Mulciber down the stairs to the entrance of the common room proved to be a more challenging feat than either she or Rosier was prepared for, but they finally managed to get to the entrance after a struggle that felt like it lasted an eternity. Rosier walked up to the stretch of stone wall and whispered the password, doing his best to not give away the secret key to an outsider, oblivious to how his roommate had already told her how to enter. 

“Mulciber, for the love of Merlin, get it together,” Rosier whined as he dragged his friend into the common room and plopped him onto the couch, falling down on the floor beside him. He let out an exasperated sigh and shook his head in annoyance. 

Xavier took Avalon’s hand and quietly pulled her past his friends and towards where she assumed his room was. As they made it to the top of the stairs, Avalon noticed Tom and Kyra walking into a room down the hall, which she figured was Tom’s, before he quickly closed the door behind them. 

She began to wonder if the two of them were together. Riddle didn’t strike her as the type to get himself into relationships, but she didn’t have much time to think about it as Xavier opened his door and strode inside. She didn’t follow in after him and he turned to look at her, confused. 

“I’m going to go back to my room now,” she said. 

“Stay here,” he pleaded, walking back and taking her hand. “Rosier is going to sneak into his girl’s room and I’m going to be here all alone.”

“Then by all means, Xavier, enjoy your privacy,” she said, turning to leave.

“Shacklebolt is going to kill you if you go back to your room and wake her up right now,” he teased. She did feel bad for Zelda, considering she was the cause of her roommate’s poor sleep the past couple of nights. He noticed her hesitation and smiled to himself, raising his hands in surrender. “I won’t try anything, I promise. Just spend the night with me.”

She crossed her arms, but quietly walked into his room, shaking her head. “You’re terribly annoying.”

“You’ve mentioned it a few times,” he replied, grinning as he lifted his covers and climbed into his bed. He patted the area beside him and she sighed, taking off her coat and putting it on his chair before getting into his bed by him. He pulled his shirt off over his head and threw it onto the floor before he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against him, his head resting atop hers. She had to admit that the warmth of his body was comforting, though she didn’t quite know how she found herself in this situation to begin with. She tried not to think about it too much, telling herself that this was the best way for her to gain his trust. “Goodnight, love,” he mumbled, his voice tired as he closed his eyes, planting a kiss atop her head before he began to drift off, the alcohol in his system carrying him swiftly to sleep

His breathing grew more and more steady as sleep overtook him, and she was grateful for the sound of his slow heartbeat. It kept the room from becoming too silent. She felt sleep begin to creep upon her, but as her eyes began to close, she just kept wondering how she had managed to end up in Lestrange’s bed after all. 


	7. Chapter 7

Avalon awoke in the dark. She felt something warm around her waist and looked down with groggy eyes, noticing the pale arm slung around her figure. It took her by surprise-- she had almost forgotten where she had fallen asleep. Xavier’s hair tickled her neck as he quietly nestled into her, his eyes still shut tight as soft snores escaped his lips. 

The realization of where she was jolted her wide awake. Rosier’s bed was still empty and she was grateful that he had spent the night elsewhere. With caution and a delicate touch, she moved Xavier’s arm off her waist and slinked herself away from him, making absolutely certain that she was moving quietly and slowly enough to not wake him. He shifted and she swore he was about to bolt upright, but instead he grabbed a nearby pillow and hugged it close to his chest, never once opening his eyes. 

Her hands started working quickly then, grabbing her coat, shoes, and wand as she scrambled to get out as quickly as she could. She knew she had to leave before day broke and people were awake to see her leave Xavier’s bedroom.

Thinking about how she was going to have to explain herself to Zelda was already making her head spin. Surely, her roommate would give her an earful for spending the night with Lestrange, and she didn’t particularly have the heart to listen. Even if they had only shared a bed for sleep, it was still a win for Xavier, and she couldn’t believe she had allowed herself to get caught up in his games. She just kept telling herself over and over that she had to play along in order to get useful information about Tom, but as she looked at the peacefully sleeping boy in his bed, with a serene look on his face and wild brown curls, she wondered how much of that statement was actually true. 

She wasted no more time, opening his door and scurrying down the hall, making sure to tip-toe so she wouldn’t wake up any of the other Slytherins. As she made her way down the stairs and towards the exit, she tried to run her hand through her hair, the usually silky strands now knotted from her late night involuntary swim in the lake. A huff of annoyance escaped her lips as she gave up on taming the tangled mess and instead focused on trying to make sure the strap of her nightgown, which was now both wrinkled and littered with grass stains, didn’t fall off her shoulder. Admittedly, she’s looked better. 

The exit was right there and she was moments away from slipping out of the Slytherin dorm completely undetected. For once, things seemed to be going her way as she got ready to scurry back over to Ravenclaw Tower and try to sort through the mess that was her current situation. Until, of course, she heard the one voice she had prayed she wouldn’t hear. 

“No intention of getting in bed with Lestrange, huh?”

She didn’t want to turn around to face him, and honestly, she didn’t have to. Without seeing him, she could envision the smirk painted onto Riddle’s lips-- the cruel amusement in his voice gave it away far too easily. When she finally spun around to look at him, he was perched in an armchair in the corner of the room, book in hand. He didn’t bother to stand up, just slowly lifted his eyes from the page until his gaze met hers. 

“Excuse me?” she said, loudly, clearly.

“Well, yesterday you claimed to not be interested in him, and today…” Tom’s words trailed off as he looked pointedly at her thin nightgown, his gaze trailing up to the strap of her nightgown that had fallen down her shoulder, his mocking smile growing by the second. 

She let out an aggravated huff and yanked the strap back up harshly, crossing her arms as she stared at him, daggers in her eyes. The more irritated she grew, the more he wanted to keep pressing her. Something about her temper amused him and he found pleasure in knowing he could rile her up with just a few choice words. In fact, it seemed like he was the only person that had such an instant negative effect on her. She kept her gaze on him as she replied, “I just helped him back. You saw how much he had to drink.”

“Oh, I’m sure you helped him plenty.”

She scoffed and shook her head, desperate to change the subject. “Why are you up so early, anyway? I would’ve thought you’d be exhausted after all the  _ help  _ you got from Kyra.” 

He closed his book, setting it down on the table beside his chair before he stood up and lithely approached her, leaning against the stone wall a few feet away from where she stood. His face stretched into an insincere grin, “Do I hear jealousy, Hendrix?”

“You hear disgust,” she bit back, but she still earned a light laugh from him. 

There was a moment of thoughtful silence before he shrugged, walking slowly back over to the bookshelf and running his fingers along the spines of the various titles, trying to find the one he was looking for. When he found it, he pulled it out and casually walked back to his armchair, settling into it quietly before he spoke again. “At least now that Lestrange finally got his fix, he won’t waste any more time pursuing you.”

She rolled her eyes, walking towards the exit. “Unfortunately, you’ll find I’m quite addictive.” She opened it up, not looking back as she walked out, calling to him over her shoulder. “See you around, Riddle.”

As he watched her slip out of the common room, a subtle sway in her step as she merged with the shadows outside, he couldn’t help but have his thoughts linger a little longer than he would have liked to admit. She was infuriating-- absolutely dreadful to have to tolerate. She had a wickedly short temper, a predisposition for hatred that was near impossible to shake, and a terribly annoying tendency to seek the last word. If the knowledge he craved wasn’t so unfortunately sealed within her mind, he would have already told Lestrange to get rid of her by now. But, as much as he hated to admit it, he knew she had something that he needed, and so she would have to be kept at arm's length until she decided to finally give him the knowledge he sought. 

There was a certain curiosity surrounding her past, however. He thought about the endless scars along her body, wanting desperately to know if those wounds were the reason she had trained in Dark Magic. It made sense, he supposed-- if she had been tortured at the hands of darkness, perhaps she would take it upon herself to equip her own hand with the same power that had hurt her. 

She was terribly hard to read. The thought of prying into her mind and forcing information out of her had, admittedly, crossed his mind, though he decided against it time, primarily because he felt as though he could crack her open on his own without complicating things. She was difficult to charm and more closed off than most, but she was, ultimately, still just another girl. Never once had he met someone that he couldn’t eventually get to open up to him, and he doubted she would be any different, even if she did take more time to unravel. With his sights set on the Dark Magic she possessed, he knew he would get her to speak, eventually. There was no other option. She had something he wanted, and when he wanted something, he always got it. 

He was, however, still curious about her. She gave him little insight into herself, and it drove him mad. It became increasingly difficult to understand her when she was so persistent in keeping herself perfectly distanced from him. He didn’t pin her as the type to take up Dark Magic, but he also didn’t pin her as the type to not use every trick up her sleeve. The two of them shared one thing in common, and that was an apparent desire for power and knowledge. Perhaps Lestrange would have better luck with her, though at the same time, the thought of giving up on her irritated him. He was determined to have her open up to him, simply to prove to himself that he could.

Avalon walked back to Ravenclaw Tower briskly, trying to make sure she made it back before students began populating the halls. She made it back in record time and, miraculously, without running into anyone at all. 

Even Ravenclaw’s common room was empty-- it seemed that nobody was awake at this early hour. Except, apparently, Riddle. Avalon opened the door to her and Zelda’s room quietly, trying her hardest to not wake her roommate as she crept into the dimly lit dorm, shuffling around silently as she made her way to her dresser to grab a fresh change of clothes. 

“You’re back,” Zelda said, her voice ridden with sleep as she groggily looked over from her bed. 

“I’m sorry for waking you,” Ava said, feeling terrible and preparing herself for a lecture. 

“That’s alright, I was going to get up soon anyway,” she answered, a yawn breaking out afterwards. She rubbed her eyes, her vision adjusting to the dark as she looked at Avalon. “Did you have a fun night?”

“Yeah, we went down to the lake. I ended up spending the night with Xavier to make sure he was okay,” she felt the need to explain. “He was quite drunk.”

“He didn’t pull any funny business did he?” 

“No, he didn’t. He fell right asleep.”

Zelda sighed, rolling onto her side. “Just be careful around him, please. I’m sure you know better but, just be weary.”

“Always,” she nodded. “I’m going to go wash off. Care to join me for breakfast afterwards?”

“Only if you spill some Slytherin secrets to me,” Zelda said, smiling with her eyes still half closed. Avalon laughed and nodded, running over to the bathroom to rinse off. 

She spent a decent amount of time under the warm running water, as if standing in its downpour would wash away the fact that she had spent the night wrapped up in Lestrange’s arms and yet still managed to leave his room no closer to getting information on Riddle than she had been before. Over and over she justified to herself that getting close to Lestrange was part of her master plan, but what bothered her most was the fact that she honestly didn’t have a master plan at all. If sharing a bed with Xavier was all just a means to get information about Riddle, then why did she feel so at ease with his touch?

She shook her head, growing angry at herself for her own weakness. She had to remind herself of what her mission actually was: put an end to Tom Riddle.

Everything and everyone else was nothing more than a means to an end. She had to remember that and she swore to herself that she would never forget it. No more distractions, no more fooling around. She had to focus. 

Her thoughts drifted to her friends, her classmates, her professors, her mentors…dead. Dead. Dead. All of them, dead. All at the hands of Voldemort. 

Tom Riddle. 

Voldemort.

They were one in the same. A disgraceful, loathsome, abhorrent waste of oxygen. 

She wondered how someone like Tom Riddle could have possibly become friends with Xavier...or Orion, or Axel, or Adonis, or any of them. They all seemed so much better than him, so much less hateful, less empty…more human. 

She heard the water of a nearby stall begin to rush and was reminded that she needed to get back to her own room, so she shut off the shower and dried off before slipping into her clothes and heading back to her dormitory. By the time she got back, Zelda was out of bed, though she still looked exhausted as she slipped her robes on over her uniform. 

“You ready?” she asked, and Avalon nodded.

They walked to the Great Hall together, though they didn’t speak much. Both were still too tired and the hallways were far from bustling. Only a handful of students had risen as the morning sun began to break over the horizon, enveloping the castle grounds in a soft golden glow. 

Not many students were at breakfast yet, though Avalon preferred it that way. She and Zelda sat at Ravenclaw’s table, towards the end, neither one too eager to talk to anyone else. 

Zelda grabbed some toast and began buttering it up, taking a bite as she asked, “So, care to tell me more about your night?”

Avalon laughed, shrugging. “It was me, Lestrange, Avery, Riddle, Rosier, Mulciber, Nott and his girlfriend, and Patil. We went down to the lake, most of them were pretty drunk. Lestrange and Mulciber definitely had the most to drink. They had a bottle of wine that was charmed to never run out, which ended up killing Mulciber by the end of the night.”

“Doesn’t quite surprise me, the boy drinks day and night. How he manages to still make it onto the Quidditch team every year is beyond me,” Zelda said. 

“He threw up twice,” Avalon said, holding back a laugh.

“Goodness.”

“Honestly, Lestrange wasn’t that far off from him, either. He was so drunk I had to help him up the stairs to even get him to his room.”

“They’re… an interesting lot.” It was obvious Zelda didn’t particularly approve of her new friends, though Avalon was appreciative of how her roommate attempted to keep her judgement to herself. 

Kyra and Rosalie walked into the Hall, busy in conversation as they strode over to Slytherin’s table and sat down with a group of girls. Avalon watched Kyra, wondering how she looked so put together at such an early hour. “Do you know anything about Kyra Patil?”

Zelda raised an eyebrow. “Aside from the fact that every boy in Hogwarts wants to bed her? Not much.”

“Are her and Riddle together?”

Zelda burst into laughter, confusing Avalon. “Patil and Riddle? Absolutely not. She’s been in a relationship with Renley Travers for years.” Avalon didn’t recognize the boy’s name and Zelda rolled her eyes. “Renley’s Head Boy. He’s in Ravenclaw, though. I reckon the two of them will probably wed after they graduate this year.”

The information didn’t particularly shock her. Every single thing Riddle did was vile-- it came as no surprise that he would be sleeping with an unavailable girl. He always wanted what he couldn’t have: be it people, objects, knowledge, or immortality. She had to hand it to him: no matter how low her expectations of him became, he always found a way to still disappoint.

She hadn’t realized that she had been staring at Kyra the entire time until Zelda nudged her. “Everything alright?”

“Oh, yeah. Everything is fine,” she said, looking away as Kyra’s boyfriend walked over to the Slytherin table and gave her a kiss. She suddenly felt sick to her stomach. The food before her didn’t help her lost appetite, and she sighed, pushing her plate away and resting her head on her hands.

“You haven’t touched your breakfast,” Zelda pointed out, her face contorting with concern.

“I think I’m still nauseous from drinking last night,” she lied, offering up a weak smile. Zelda didn’t look like she bought the lie, though she didn’t press her roommate any further and instead continued to eat her toast.

A couple of minutes passed by, both of them sitting quietly while Zelda ate, before Avalon heard a familiar voice from behind. “Good morning.”

She turned around, Orion’s face a pleasant sight for sore eyes. “Morning, Avery,” she greeted him as he stood behind her. 

He nodded towards Zelda, a friendly grin plastered on his lips. “How are you doing, Shacklebolt?”

“Good,” she replied. “And yourself?”

“Can’t complain,” he shrugged, his smile contagious. “I just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing after last night,” he said, once again turning his attention to Avalon.

“I’m alright, thank you.”

“Lestrange didn’t give you too much trouble did he?” he asked.

“No, he went right to bed. Have you seen him this morning?” 

“I haven’t, but I saw Rosier earlier and he said that Lestrange is still passed out in bed. I doubt he’ll be making his classes. The fool,” he sighed, rolling his eyes. “Well, it was nice seeing you both. I’ll see you around.”

“See you around,” Avalon said.

Zelda waited for him to go back towards the Slytherin table before she spoke. “I’ve never understood how Avery got wrapped up with the rest of them. He has a good heart.”

“I can tell,” Avalon replied, watching as Avery greeted other students in his house. He was well-liked, that much was obvious. The people around him began smiling the moment he arrived, and she didn’t blame them. He had an infectiously kind demeanor and lit up the room whenever he was around. 

They didn’t talk much for the rest of breakfast, and went their separate ways for class shortly after. Orion had been right-- Lestrange was missing from all of his morning classes that day. Rosier and Riddle both sat in his place, the two of them paying her no mind as she sat behind them any chance she got. Riddle turned in their Defense Against the Dark Arts paper, and she watched as he sat back down at his chair without once shifting his gaze towards her. 

Classes dragged on endlessly. Without Xavier’s constant heckling of the professors, things were fairly quiet and she found herself becoming a victim to her exhaustion as her eyes threatened to doze off several times. She made a mental note to stop staying up so late. 

Lestrange finally showed up for Transfiguration, though he looked a mess with his hair still disheveled, eyes darkened underneath, and tie crooked around his neck. He gave a slight nod in her direction before he took a seat with his friends, burying his head in his hands the moment he sat down, much to Rosier’s amusement. 

It was, overall, an incredibly uneventful day. She found herself staring at the hourglass for most of her classes, waiting for time to run out and her day to drag forward. When she was finally finished for the day, she grumbled at the thought of how many assignments she still had to do.

She couldn’t believe how much her work had already piled up in the first couple days of classes. Granted, while Zelda had been studying every night, Avalon had been going out and exploring. She cursed herself for letting her work get so heavy as she trudged along to the library in hopes of finishing up some of her work. 

The library was, surprisingly, more busy than she had ever seen it. Apparently, she was not the only one with loads of work she had to complete. It took her a whole ten minutes to find an empty seat, finally nestling herself at a table with three Hufflepuffs, all of which stared at her as if she was an exhibition at a damn zoo. 

She flashed them an annoyed glance and they quickly averted their gaze, returning to their books. Her hands fumbled around in her belongings until she grabbed a notebook and her book, opening it up and scribbling down notes on the week’s reading. The sound of whispering disrupted her focus, and she glanced up to see the Hufflepuffs deep in conversation, laughing at something among themselves. She debated between snarling at them versus just ignoring it, ultimately deciding that it was in everyone’s best interest to have her simply try to not pay them any attention and trudge on with her work. 

Their voices grew increasingly annoying by the minute, though she did her best to just focus on her work. Thankfully, they quit their chattering not too long after, and she was able to do her work uninterrupted for several hours. 

The next day was much of the same. Dull, slow, and filled to the brim with studying in the library. She did her best to avoid running into any of the Slytherins, attempting to keep her head down and stay focused on her task at hand: Riddle. Lestrange had gotten inside her head, and she hated admitting it. So, she avoided him for the rest of the week, which wasn’t too hard considering he would never be caught dead in the library. 

By the time she had finished her work, night had fallen, enveloping the library with an evening shadow that painted the books with a moonlit tint. She quietly packed her things, trying not to disturb the few other students that were still in the library alongside her. For the most part, it was cleared out-- few students found themselves studying on Friday nights, let alone the first Friday night of the school year. 

As she skirted her way outside, she felt the cool night air hit her skin and smiled to herself. It felt nice, just roaming the grounds. Seeing the castle still whole, not in shambles from the war, brought peace to her. She tried to remind herself that if she succeeded in her mission, then perhaps Hogwarts could once again be brought back to its former glory-- no broken windows, torn paintings, smashed walls…no signs of death littered all across the halls. 

She sighed and went onwards, finding her way back to Ravenclaw Tower. The common room was bustling, dozens of students chatting together, laughing, and relaxing as the week winded down. Not recognizing any familiar faces, she walked to her room, expecting it to be empty. But as she neared the door, she heard a plethora of voices coming from inside and strode in, greeted by Zelda and six others she didn’t know.

Zelda’s eyes lit up when she saw her roommate come in, waving enthusiastically. “You’re back! How was studying?”

“It was alright,” Avalon said, standing awkwardly by the entrance. 

“I hope you don’t mind, I invited some friends over.”

“Not at all,” she said, taking a seat on her bed. She was terribly conscious of how she was the sole focus of everyone in the room’s eyes-- they watched her with a sense of fear, as the rest of the school did. It occurred to her then that the only people who weren’t weary of her were her roommate and the Slytherins. 

Zelda introduced Avalon to all of the people in their room, and they all opened up to her quickly, though she felt out of place sitting there with them, listening to stories she didn’t know of and pretending to understand inside jokes that they laughed about. It wasn’t that they were unkind to her, it’s that she felt as though they weren’t her people-- and they weren’t. They were Zelda’s friends and while her roommate was doing everything she could to make sure Avalon felt included, a part of her knew that no matter how hard she tried, these were not her friends.

Her friends were all either dead, hurt, or missing. She tried to smile, to laugh, and to look like she was having a good time, but being surrounded by a group of close-knit friends was just making her think about all the people she had left behind in her own time. 

  
  


Riddle sat in the Slytherin common room, his eyes glued to a book as Nott and Mulciber sat before him, discussing their satisfaction with the new Quidditch players they had recruited after tryouts that week. The common room was nearly empty-- most Slytherins had gone down to the castle grounds together for the evening. 

Rosier walked in, slumping on a nearby armchair as he looked around. “Any of you lot seen Lestrange?”

Mulciber shrugged. “Not for a while.”

Almost as if on cue, they heard footsteps coming down the hallway from the boys rooms. Lestrange waltzed down the stairs, buttoning up his shirt as he came into view, a lazy smile plastered on his face as he shook his disheveled hair. His face was flushed and he walked with a satisfied bounce in his step, the reason becoming clear as a petite blond peeked out from behind him, her own hair a mess as she tried to tie it back into a ponytail. She quickly spotted the other boys observing them and her eyes widened, instantly scurrying past them as she darted towards the girls’ dorms. 

Nott’s eyes widened. “Tell me you didn’t just sleep with Rosalie’s sister. Tell me you didn’t do that.” Lestrange bit his lip, holding back a laugh as Nott got up and shoved him back a little. “You’re going to be the one that tells her, not me.”

“What she doesn’t know won’t kill her,” he said, shrugging, earning another annoyed blow to his chest. 

“You’re unbelievable,” Nott grumbled, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“Have you grown tired of Hendrix already?” Rosier asked. Riddle looked up, listening to their conversation quietly as he set his book down on the table beside him.

Lestrange rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Quite the contrary. She’s brilliant. But, a man still has needs.”

“So I take it you didn’t get lucky the other night?” Mulciber asked.

“I fell asleep when we got back and she was gone in the morning,” Xavier muttered, annoyance dripping in his tone. “I just need-”

“One more night, we know,” Rosier said, cutting him off. “I’m starting to think you’ve lost your touch, mate.”

“Ask her about my touch in a week’s time, then get back to me,” he said, winking at his friends who met him with a chorus of groans and sighs. 

Riddle stood up, motioning for Lestrange to follow him. He didn’t bother to look back and see if he was being followed, he knew Lestrange would chase him. They walked in silence towards Tom’s room and they both went inside before Tom locked the door behind them, leaning against the frame and watching Xavier before him.

“What do you need?” Lestrange asked, his arrogant grin still plastered onto his face.

“I need you to keep at it with Hendrix,” Tom said, his voice cold.

Lestrange laughed and shrugged before he spoke. “I’m working on it.”

“Then I suggest you work faster,” he said, seeing a flash of agitation flash across Xavier’s features. “She could be a valuable asset but every day you fail to get closer to her is more time lost for us. She’s hiding something and I want to know what it is. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, Riddle, you’ve made yourself abundantly clear,” Lestrange said, his annoyance unhidden from the way his arms crossed before his chest. 

Tom hated hearing the other boys call him by his last name. He hated everything about that filthy, mudblood surname that he had inherited from his disgusting excuse of a father. “How many times have I told you to not address me by my father’s last name?”

“And what would you prefer I call you? My Lord?” Lestrange asked sarcastically. 

Tom took a step forward, his cruel stare making Lestrange’s bravery falter. “Yes,” he said, daring the boy to question him.

“You can’t actually be serious?” Lestrange said, though his voice lacked its prior confidence. 

“Do I look like I am joking?” Xavier had become a lot bolder over the summer, a lot less obedient. Tom found himself growing irritated at the boy’s sudden insubordination. When one of the boys began to question his authority, he made sure to remind them of their place-- they were his followers, nothing more. How they dared to forget that was beyond him, and each time one of them stepped out of line, he found it harder and harder to hold himself back from simply breaking them back into submission. “Now stop wasting my time and get Hendrix to open up to you. Those are orders. Understood?”

“Yes,” Lestrange said, looking down at the floor, shrinking away from Tom’s icy gaze. 

“Yes what?”

He could see Xavier’s jaw clench, trying desperately to hide his anger, though the boy knew better than to dare speak up against him. Tom stared at him, awaiting a response, and Lestrange’s lips twitched a few times as he tried to bring himself to answer the question. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and unsettled, yet obedient. “Yes, my Lord.”

“Good. Now get out,” he said, watching as Lestrange scrambled to the door, leaving in a flurry of red-faced anger and shame. A few moments passed before he left his room, as well, getting ready to walk the castle grounds for his Prefect shift. He passed by the boys in the common room without saying a word, though he made sure to send one last glare at Lestrange as he exited, though Xavier was avoiding his eyes at all costs. The other boys all noticed the chill that ran down Lestrange’s back, but nobody spoke up, letting Tom leave with a hint of a smile etched onto his lips. 

  
  


Avalon felt her anxiety grow as she sat in their tiny room, surrounded by Zelda’s boisterous friends. An overwhelming sense of guilt was washing over her for not being a better roommate, for not trying harder to fit in with Zelda’s friends, for feeling so out of place, but she couldn’t help the suffocation she felt within the confinement of their dorm. She tried-- she really did-- to enjoy herself and laugh along with them, but every time anyone made a joke, told a story, or let out a laugh, her mind only drifted back to sitting in Ravenclaw Tower with her own friends, laughing till the break of dawn with everyone she loved, most of whom were now dead. 

She couldn’t help it-- she felt like she couldn’t breathe in that room, so she got up, excused herself, and left before Zelda could stop her. Her feet carried her down the steps of the tower until she made it down to the main corridor of the castle, the cool night breeze a refreshing treat against her clammy skin.

Laughter rang through the castle-- students were still out, enjoying the start of their first weekend as they pranced through the halls. It seemed as though everyone had someone to be with, yet she felt glaringly alone. She didn’t know where her feet were taking her, but she let them guide the way, taking her further and further from the other students as she passed hall after hall, climbed stairwell after stairwell, and passed corridor after corridor. 

She missed her friends more than anything. Her heart ached with a longing for Hermione’s voice, Luna’s comfort, Harry’s bravery, Ron’s jokes, and all of their presence. She felt a pang of jealousy towards everyone around her-- they were so lucky to be surrounded by their loved ones. She knew they weren’t at fault for her loneliness, but she couldn’t help but feel a bitter resentment no matter how hard she tried to quell it away. 

She kept wondering why it was her-- why was she the one that survived all of this? Surely, any of the others would have been better suited for a task like this. Hermione would have already found the Horcruxes by now. Harry would already know how to defeat Tom. She, on the other hand, was no closer to finding answers than she was when she got here and she hated herself for it. She spent a lot of time wondering if she had survived by mistake-- if all of this was just a fluke and she was never meant to make it out of the Battle of Hogwarts alive. So many people died, most of them much braver witches and wizards than her, and she survived…for what?

She felt her fists clenching in frustration, and she couldn’t contain herself as she began pacing back and forth in the empty corridor, her mind racing with a million intrusive thoughts. She wanted so badly to see her friends, if only for a moment. It hurt her heart thinking about all those she had lost, but it hurt more to think about the ones that were still alive. They were trapped in a world controlled by Voldemort and his vile followers, constantly having to look over their shoulders every second of every day, living in perpetual fear that one day their hidden refuge would be found out and they would be slaughtered just like the others. 

It wasn’t a life worth living. She mourned the dead, but she pitied the living. 

She’d do anything to be surrounded by them…to see their faces, hear their voices, feel their touch, or just get a glimpse of them to remind herself why she was here. It wasn’t a field trip, or a fun trip down memory lane…she was here for them. For her friends, for her loved ones, for her professors, classmates, neighbors, and everyone that fought against the tyranny of the Dark Lord. Her job was simple, kill Tom Riddle before he killed everyone she knew. Yet, nothing about her situation was simple.

The isolation she felt within the castle was harrowing. The weight of the world was on her shoulders and yet she had nobody to truly confide in and the strain was crushing her. Her friends had been her backbone for as long as she could remember. She didn’t just want to see them, she needed to see them. 

The wall before her began shifting into a door, the Room of Requirement opening as she took a few steps back, startled by the rumbling before her. She hadn’t even realized she was standing before it until the entrance appeared, but she wasted no time entering the space, wondering what would lie inside. 

She was completely unaware of Tom’s presence standing at the end of the hallway as he watched the Room appear before her. He was caught off guard-- he had thought he was the only one who knew how to get into the Room of Requirement. To see a transfer student find it in less than a week was baffling to him, and he grew more weary of her by the passing second as he lurked behind her, walking in just moments after she did, closing the door behind him.

His footsteps on the hard stone floor startled her and she spun around, pointing her wand at him before her eyes even landed on his figure in the dim room. She didn’t lower her wand when she recognized him, however. He glanced at her shaky fingers before returning his gaze to her stone cold stare. “Why so tense, Hendrix?”

She slowly lowered her wand, though her gaze was unrelenting. “Excuse me for not liking it when boys I don’t like follow me into dark rooms and shut the door behind them.”

He didn’t seem phased, looking around the room nonchalantly. It was near empty-- only a large, ornate, golden mirror pushed to the furthest wall. She walked towards it slowly, him following close behind.

She stopped just inches before it, her eyes so fixated on the mirror that she nearly forgot he was in the room with her. 

“What is this?” he asked. He had never seen anything like this before-- surely, she wasn’t seeing what he was seeing… right?

“The Mirror of Erised,” she said, her voice a mere whisper. “It shows a person the thing they most desire.” Her eyes pried themselves away from the mirror for just a moment, instead looking at him. His eyes were dark with hunger as he stared at the reflection before him, his fingers nearly reaching out to grasp what he saw. 

He looked away for just a moment, feeling her stare on him. “What do you see?”

When she looked into the mirror, they were all there. Her friends, her family, her classmates, her professors. Hermione and Luna were standing closest to her, Harry not far from them, and they all smiled at her with pride and comfort in their eyes. It felt so nice to see them all that she found herself never wanting to pry her eyes from the mirror at all. They were all standing in a circle surrounding her… 

But she was kneeled on the ground, a pool of blood encircling her laughing figure as she hunched over Riddle’s lifeless body, his coffee eyes an empty contrast to her beaming smile. His body was littered with the same open wounds that his followers had sliced into her own flesh, and she held a blade in her hands as she laughed over his bleeding corpse. 

She pried her eyes away from the mirror just as a smile was finding its way onto her own lips and she looked up at him, shrugging. “I see my loved ones,” she said, not entirely lying, though slightly hesitating on her own wording. “What about yourself?”

He stared into the mirror, his own reflection staring back at him, an army of faceless witches and wizards kneeling before him, clad in dark robes as they looked up to him-- their powerful, immortal leader. He smiled before he spoke. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

She crossed her arms, trying to hide the annoyance in her voice. “I would, actually.”

“Well, I’ll tell you what I see when you tell me what you saw.”

“I just did.”

He laughed, but it was a cold sound to her ears. “What you  _ actually _ saw,” he clarified. 

“And why do you assume I’m lying?”

“You’ve told me very few truths so far.”

“You think you know me well enough to make that conclusion?”

“Well, it seems you think you know me well enough to make many conclusions.”

“I know all I need to know about you,” she said, her voice nothing more than an angry hiss.

“Do you now? And what do you know about me?” he asked, challenging her to speak as he towered over her.

She turned to face him, looking up into his eyes and shaking her head at the boy that stood before her-- the boy that one would day grow to be the most dangerous sorcerer that had ever lived. “You remind me of a wizard I knew. When I look into your eyes, I see him every single time. He was blinded by his own thirst for power and let it consume him until there was nothing left of the person he once was. He had no friends, only followers, and the only constant in his life was how even the mere mention of his name made people shrink in fear.”

“It seems to me you are just describing a powerful wizard,” he said, unphased by her words.

“Power means nothing if it was seized at the expense of the innocent,” she said. 

“And yet who is given the power to judge who is truly innocent?” he retorted.

She shook her head, her fingers trembling with rage as she averted her eyes away from his, though his gaze followed her as she paced away. “Neither you nor I have that power, Riddle.”

“What if we could?” he asked, taking a step towards her. 

She narrowed her eyes. “Excuse me?”

“You’re a powerful witch,” he said, choosing his words very carefully. “Surely you’ve thought about what you could achieve if you explored your full potential.”

“You saw a glimpse of my full potential when we dueled. Have you already forgotten about that?”

“Not quite,” he said, taking a step forward. “I can help you, Hendrix. I can help you unleash your powers in ways you couldn’t even dream of. Our knowledge together could bring forth magic more powerful than anything you or I have ever seen before.”

“It appears to me that you need  _ my _ help unleashing your own potential,” she said, turning away from him and heading towards the exit. “And unfortunately for you, there is nothing you could offer me in return.”

He was struck by a wave of fury, his next actions more instinctual than anything else as he grabbed her by the wrist before she could get away, dragging her back in one swift motion. His grasp on her skin was so tight that she felt his fingers digging into her bone, the urge to fight back a yelp overwhelming as the pain of his grasp overtook her senses. 

For the first time, he sensed fear in her eyes as she looked at him. Not anger, not irritation, not hatred-- pure fear. And that fueled his own force, feeding a tenacity within him that roared with nothing more than sinister potential and a lust for control. He pulled her closer, his cold eyes staring into her wide hazel gaze as he snarled, “Mind you, if you won’t give me the knowledge I want, I could always take it by force.”

She felt her senses rush back into her as she laughed to herself, remembering the countless times Death Eaters had attempted, and failed, to use Legilimency to pry into her mind in hopes of stealing information about the Order. She had grown to be quite skilled at Occlumency-- her mind was a fortress that very few could now seek entrance to. 

She focused her energy into a silent spell, and he hissed as her skin became scorching hot to his touch, singeing his skin before he let go of her, his eyes burning with a crazed anger that even she had never seen before. Before he could attempt anything else, she walked to the door, opening it up and looking over her shoulder as she spoke, “I’d love to see you try.”

He debated chasing her out. He debated throwing her against a wall and forcing her to talk. He even debated dragging her back into the room and using the Cruciatus Curse on her until she spoke. But instead, he stayed alone in the Room of Requirement, pacing back and forth, fury coursing through his veins as he thought about her. 

She was insufferable. Disrespectful, brash, and disobedient. He was angry that she was so intolerable, angry that his charm had no effect on her, angry that she didn’t listen, angry that he hadn’t forced her to open her mind to him right then and there, and more so than anything else, furious that she thought she could speak to him that way.

He stormed back over to the Mirror of Erised, craving the image of his success once more to calm his nerves. As he stared at the reflection, he smiled at the sight of his followers bent down before him, their robes blending their identities into one indistinguishable fleet of loyal supporters. But, as he continued to look, one of them took off her hood, revealing a head of black hair, flowing down past her hazel eyes as she bowed before him, never once opening her mouth to speak against him. He stared at the image of Hendrix, kneeled down before him, and clenched his fist, wondering how a girl he met less than a week ago had already managed to weave her way into his deepest desire. 


	8. Chapter 8

“No… there is absolutely no way,” Avalon whispered, earning a raised brow from Zelda.

“What? You don’t think that Merrythought could take Dumbledore in a fight?” her roommate asked, keeping her voice low. They both glanced at their Transfiguration Professor, who was busy wrapping up their class as they discussed in the back. 

“Of course not. I mean-”

“Miss Hendrix, Miss Shacklebolt, if you could keep your conversations to a minimum for only a few more moments of time, class will be ending shortly,” Dumbledore said, instantly earning a ‘Sorry, Professor,’ from both of them.

Avalon’s eyes trailed over to Riddle, Rosier, and Lestrange, who were all sitting at a table a few rows in front of her and Zelda. 

Several days had passed since Avalon and Tom had been together in the Room of Requirement. She couldn’t even count how many times she had replayed their conversation in her mind. The question of whether or not Tom Riddle would be afraid or proud of what he would one day become had floated in her mind on several occasions, yet she now had her answer-- he wanted that life more than anything else. To be feared was seductive to him, power was a temptation, and he lusted for control. 

Dumbledore was wrong: not all wizards could be saved and not all wizards deserved to be understood. Some were simply beyond salvation, and Tom Riddle was one of them. 

Her wrist still bore bruises from where his fingers had dug into her skin, leaving litters of purple pain along her wrist as a reminder of where his angry touch had lingered. 

The two of them had not been alone together since that incident. Anytime their eyes locked for a brief moment in time, an unspoken tension between them caused her to avert her gaze quickly every single time. She actually had barely seen any of the Slytherin boys in the last few days. Lestrange ate dinner with her the night prior, but aside from that, she had tried to avoid them all for a while to clear her mind. After waking up in Lestrange’s bed, she needed to take time to herself to think about her purpose, her goals, and what was at stake. She could not allow herself to become side-tracked from her mission.

She had lost hope in believing she would be able to learn about the Horcruxes through becoming one of Riddle’s allies. The two were on a path of mutual destruction, and she knew she’d have to find another means of getting the information she desired: Lestrange seemed to be her best option, for the time being. 

He was difficult to pry information out of, however. Every time she brought Riddle up in conversation, he quickly averted the discussion towards another path. It was as though he was purposely covering for his friend, and that only confirmed her belief that he knew much more than he let on. 

Class ended shortly after, and Lestrange approached her, giving Zelda a brief nod before he turned his full attention to Avalon. “Are you excited for tonight, darling?”

She raised an eyebrow, glancing over quizzically at Zelda who shrugged. “What’s tonight?”

He fake gasped, pressing a hand to his chest as he feigned hurt. “What’s tonight? You mean to tell me you’ve forgotten?”

“Out with it, Lestrange, I don’t have all day,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“It’s time for you to make your Slug Club debut,” he grinned. “You promised to accompany me last week during detention. You don’t strike me as a liar.”

She let out a groan, burying her head in her hands. The fact that she had mentioned accompanying him to the next dinner party had escaped her mind, and she suddenly found herself regretting the promise. “Xavier, I wasn’t serious-”

“No, no, it’s much too late for any excuses,” he said dismissively. “I already bought you a dress. It’s on your bed. I’ll see you at the bottom of Ravenclaw Tower at 8.”

“On her bed? How did you get into our room? We’ve all been in class,” Zelda said, narrowing her eyes at him.

“I have a few tricks up my sleeve, Shacklebolt,” he said with a wink.

“I won’t know anyone at dinner,” Avalon grumbled, trying to grasp at any excuse she could to not go.

“Don’t be silly. You’ll know me, Rosier, Riddle, and Avery.” The thought of having to be in the same vicinity as Riddle made her blood boil, though she wondered if this could be the opportunity she needed to investigate a little. If Riddle was at Slug Club, she figured his bedroom would be empty for at least a couple of hours. Perhaps it was time to take matters into her own hands and dig around, seeing if she could find anything significant that might be a Horcrux. If he wasn’t going to tell her, it might be time to start getting her hands dirty. Lestrange took her hand into his and pressed a gentle kiss onto the back of it. “Don’t keep me waiting, love. It’ll be a grand night, I promise.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Xavier,” she groaned, earning a laugh from him before he waved and walked off, joining Rosier and Riddle as they made their way out of class. She and Zelda started back to their room, stopping only once to briefly chat with a couple of Zelda’s friends. When they opened the door to their bedroom, both of their jaws nearly dropped when their eyes landed on the dress sprawled neatly across Avalon’s bed. 

“Dear Merlin,” Zelda said, her voice barely a whisper as she walked up to the emerald green dress. Its velvet fabric bunched up into a high neck, the open back blending into the waistline, tapering in before falling just above where the knees end. A silver box rested next to it, its top opened to reveal a glimmering necklace, stacked with three layers of shining diamonds, each one sparkling like a thousand galaxies whenever the sunlight bounced atop them from the window pane. Zelda picked it up, almost hesitantly, and looked between the necklace, the dress, and Avalon. “He truly… spared no expense on you.”

“Surely these can’t be real, right?” Avalon asked, eyeing the diamonds. 

“Knowing Lestrange, I think they are,” her roommate replied dumbfounded, a nervous laugh escaping her lips as she gently set the necklace back down into the box. 

“Bloody Hell,” Avalon muttered. 

Zelda bit her lip, debating her next words before she finally spoke. “If you don’t mind me asking…what exactly is your relationship with him? Because, to be quite frank, he typically only pursues girls for a day or two before moving on to the next. This is bold, even for him.”

Avalon wasn’t particularly sure how to answer that. They weren’t dating, and he had never expressed any interest in being exclusive, or going steady, or even being anything more than a skirt for him to chase…though there was something there that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She wouldn’t go so far as to say that she liked him, though she didn’t mind his presence, to say the least. “We’re just friends,” she said, but even she knew she didn’t sound all too convincing.

“Does he know that?”

“Of course,” she shrugged.

“Love, friends don’t buy friends diamond necklaces,” Zelda said quietly before adding, “And most friends I know don’t share a bed, either.”

Avalon groaned before shaking her head. “Not fair. That was one time, Z. And nothing even happened.”

“Do you fancy him?”

“No,” she said, almost too quickly. Zelda raised an eyebrow, not believing her. “I mean, I’m not looking for anything right now.”

“But do you fancy him?”

“He’s not intolerable,” she admitted. 

“I’m glad you think that,” Zelda said, her stare lingering on her roommate. “Perhaps you’ll be the one to finally change him for the better.”

They didn’t speak much after that. Both of them merely got into their beds, textbooks in their laps, and tried to do some light studying while the sun was still out. Avalon was able to finish a good majority of her homework, only losing her focus a few times when Zelda began reading some of her notes aloud.

It wasn’t until about half an hour before Lestrange was supposed to meet her at the bottom of the Tower that she finally crawled back out of her spot and began getting ready. She did some light makeup and ran her fingers through her hair until the waves cascaded past her shoulders in soft flutters of silken black. There was a moment of hesitation when she finally grabbed the dress, slipping it on and staring at herself in the mirror as it fell atop her figure. 

It was beautiful. There was no denying it-- he had picked out the finest piece he could find, yet she couldn’t help the feeling of frustration that coursed through her body when she turned around, the large scar on her back completely exposed from how the fabric fell just beneath the word ‘TRAITOR.’ 

She could tell from the way Zelda’s nonstop page flipping had abruptly ceased that her roommate’s eyes had finally fallen on the discolored skin that plagued her back. “Oh, Avalon,” she said quietly, her voice a pained whisper. Avalon took a deep breath and turned around to face her, as Zelda stood up to stand by her side, pulling her into a gentle hug. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

Avalon nodded, relaxing into her friend’s touch. It felt nice to be held by a friend: she missed the feeling a great deal. “I know.”

“But, you also don’t have to,” Zelda said, her voice soft in Avalon’s ear. “Only if you ever feel ready. I’m always here for you.”

“Thank you,” said Avalon, and she meant it. 

They remained that way for a few more moments before Zelda pulled away, a gentle smile on her lips. Avalon appreciated Zelda more than she could ever express-- her kindness was the only true friendship she felt she had here, and it was something she did not take for granted. She knew that if her friends back in her own time met Zelda, they’d adore her. She would fit in among them as if she were part of their own group. Her wit, grace, and compassion were silver linings in her stay here, and every day she found herself growing more and more grateful that she had been put into a room with her. 

“I can’t wear this, though,” she said, already beginning to slip it off her shoulders.

Zelda narrowed her eyes. “What? No, no, just wait a moment,” she said before clambering over to her dresser and digging around for a few moments, tossing robes and shirts and skirts onto the floor as she searched for what she was looking for. She grabbed something triumphantly and strode back over to Avalon, draping a shimmery silver shawl over her shoulders. It was sheer enough to be almost translucent in the light, yet shone bright enough to hide her scar beneath its reach. “You look absolutely beautiful. Lestrange is a lucky one.”

“You’re incredible,” Avalon said, offering her roommate a genuine smile. “I mean that. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, love. Now, off you go! I’m sure Lestrange is already waiting for you,” she said, grinning.

“I’m going, I’m going!” Avalon giggled, slipping on some matching shoes, sliding her wand into her pocket and waving to her roommate as she glided out of their room, walking briskly down the stairs until she got to the base of the Tower. Xavier’s eyes landed on her as she descended the stairs and his face immediately broke out into a wide smile. He was dressed in an all black suit, an emerald green shirt slightly unbuttoned underneath his blazer that matched the color of her dress. He didn’t take his gaze off her once as she walked over to him and he took her hand in his, spinning her around as he always did when he was excited to see her. She had grown fond of his playful greeting for her, though she wouldn’t admit it to him. 

“You look absolutely stunning,” he said as he pulled up against him and pressed a kiss to her forehead. 

“You clean up nicely, yourself,” she said smiling. He pulled out a flask from his pocket, taking a quick drink before offering it to her. She gladly accepted it, knowing she’d need a drink or two to calm her nerves before the night ahead. The moment the first drop hit her tongue, she shuddered at the taste of the whiskey going down her throat. “Thank you for letting me borrow the dress and necklace. They’re gorgeous.” 

He laughed, confusing her. “Borrow? Darling, what would I need them for?”

“Xavier, I can’t keep them-”

He cut her off. “Nonsense. Buy me a butterbeer one day, we’ll call it even.” She opened her mouth to argue but he just grinned, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. “Stop pouting, we’re running late. Let’s go.”

He pulled her forward, never letting go of her hand as they walked the corridors together. His touch was gentle, yet firm, rubbing small circles onto her skin while he continuously reminded her of how she was the most beautiful girl he had ever laid eyes on. When they finally got to Slughorn’s office, he paused outside and spoke to her. “Before we go in, I just want to warn you.”

“Warn me? Are we entering a battle?” 

“Sort of,” he laughed. “Slughorn likes to ask a lot of questions anytime someone brings a date. Just be ready for some focused attention. He wants to recruit other students into Slug Club if he thinks they are going to go places-- I’m sure he’ll find you to his liking. He likes students that are destined for big things.”

“So why does he like you?” she teased him. 

“Ask the diamonds on your neck,” he winked before opening the door. Inside sat Slughorn, surrounded at the dinner table by several students, all of them chattering with the people sitting nearest them. Riddle was sitting closest to the professor, with Rosier beside him. She was thrilled to see Avery sat next to Rosier, and he flashed her a bright smile when his eyes landed on her, motioning for her to take the seat open beside him. She and Lestrange joined the rest at the table, and she sat down next to Avery, with Lestrange sitting beside her. To his side was a student she didn’t recognize, though she assumed he was Gyrffindor from the maroon tie around his neck. 

Professor Slughorn nodded at her and Lestrange as they took their seats. “Good evening, Mr. Lestrange. Miss Hendrix, I’m glad you could join us tonight.”

“Thank you for having me, sir,” she said, smiling at him. She felt Tom’s eyes drilling holes into her, his frigid gaze unrelenting as he watched her greet the people at the table. Her eyes finally landed on Kyra, who was sitting on the other side of Slughorn, her boyfriend, Renley, holding her hand atop the table. It made Avalons scoff in disgust seeing how Kyra’s grey eyes kept glancing over at Tom, despite the wide grin plastered on her clearly love-struck boyfriend’s face. She wondered how Travers had yet to notice how his own girlfriend’s attention belonged to someone else in the room.

“Excellent,” said Slughorn. “Now that everyone is here, we can begin the feast.” He clapped his hands and the table before them filled to the brim with decadent dishes that made her mouth water at the sight. Lestrange filled her plate with a serving of shepherd’s pie and she dug her fork in, taking a small bite as she scanned the table, watching the others begin to eat. 

As her eyes landed on Riddle once more, she felt an uneasiness rise in her stomach as she thought about how she was planning on entering his room later that night in her attempt to find clues to the Horcruxes. She tried not to think about it too much, and instead just took another quick bite of food. 

“Miss Hendrix, how did you enjoy your first week at Hogwarts?” Slughorn asked, shifting her attention back into the present.

She quickly swallowed her food before smiling again. “It’s been lovely, so far. Already starting to feel like home.”

“More so than Durmstrang, I might imagine?”

“It’s certainly different, though I find myself missing my old school less and less by the day.”

“And why did you come to Hogwarts in the first place, if you don’t mind me asking? Was it your parents’ decision?”

She hesitated before she answered, and she felt Xavier take her hand under the table and give it a small squeeze. “My parents actually passed away when I was quite young. They were both dragon keepers and they were transferring an injured Ukranian Ironbelly to the Romanian Sanctuary when it broke loose and took their lives. I’ve lived with my aunt ever since. It was her decision-- given the war raging, she thought it would be safer for me here.” It felt strange to her to finally admit something truthful when it seemed everything that she said here was usually a lie of sorts. 

Tom watched her with interest, noting how he had never actually heard her speak of herself before. Something about her tone made him believe that she was telling the truth, and he wondered if that was the first honest thing she had said since arriving at Hogwarts. 

Slughorn raised his eyes and a flash of apologetic sorrow graced his face. “Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that. Though, we are so grateful to have you join us here at Hogwarts.”

“Cheers to that, Professor,” Xavier said with a smirk, raising his glass. 

Slughorn nodded, taking a sip from his drink. “I heard from Professor Merrythought that you are quite a skilled duelist. You even gave Mr. Riddle a run for his money, and he is our brightest student.” She smiled to herself, noticing how Tom’s grip on his glass tightened at the mention of their duel. “Do you hope to pursue a career that involves those combat skills?”

She didn’t know the last time she had thought about what she wanted to be when she left school. It had been ages since the concept of a future was secure enough for her to even think about pursuing a career. For years now, even the promise of tomorrow wasn’t given, so she took everything day by day, never once thinking about what she wanted to do for a career. She had been too busy looking over her shoulder and running from death to entertain the curiosity of one day settling down.

When she had been younger, she wanted to be an Auror-- as do most students at Hogwarts. The thrill of fighting against dark arts and using her skills was tempting, though she couldn’t imagine herself going down that path anymore. She had seen too much death, too much destruction, fought too many battles, and lost too many people to want to make a living surrounding herself with more chaos. All she wanted was a quiet life. For once, all she wanted was to see an end to the destruction.

“On the contrary, sir. I think I’d like to be a Healer,” she said. 

“An excellent choice, indeed,” Slughorn said, still delighted with her answer. “Mr. Travers, your parents are Healers, correct?”

Renley nodded. “Yes, sir. Perhaps one day, you could meet them and they could help you with your goals,” he said, smiling at Avalon.

“That’d be lovely,” she said, returning his smile. She felt sick everytime she watched him give Kyra’s hand a subtle squeeze. It was beyond her how anyone could think about being unfaithful to their significant other, and for Riddle, of all people. 

Tom couldn’t imagine her as a Healer. He found himself shaking his head at her delusion, only able to think about the crazed look in her eyes when she forced blood to drip down his cheeks during their duel. He wasn’t sure if she was lying or just lacked true ambition, but he found himself disappointed in her extraordinarily mundane answer.

Slughorn’s attention finally drifted towards Renley, and he began speaking to the Head Boy about his plans after graduation, which Travers was more than happy to discuss. Avalon took that as an opportunity to eat her meal, finally feeling her hunger pang her stomach. She felt terribly awkward as Lestrange was busy in conversation with the Gryffindor beside him, so she kept to herself. 

Orion sensed her apparent feeling of isolation and leaned over, whispering to her, “I’ve always wanted to be a Healer, too.”

She looked up at him and raised a brow. “Really?”

He laughed. “That’s the reaction I usually get.”

“No, I didn’t mean it that way-”

He cut her off. “I know, don’t worry. But, that is still usually the reaction I get. My father is the head of the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry, so I think everyone expects me to go down his path.”

“And you don’t wish to?”

“Not particularly. I don’t find myself drawn to a life within the Ministry. I know that sounds pretentious, since so many students dream of that opportunity, but it’s just never been my particular interest.”

“Well, I think you’d make a wonderful Healer,” she said, offering a smile. 

“As will you.”

Slughorn spent the rest of the dinner engaging in individual conversations with each of the students. The talks were pleasant enough, though she thought back to when she and her friends had attended Slughorn’s parties, knowing that while the conversations were always light in nature, their undertones were carefully crafted to differentiate which students Slughorn believed were destined for greatness. He was hand-selecting them as though they were trophies he could one day brandish on his wall of prized students, making sure that those he chose would be the brightest witches and wizards of their time. Though, despite his predisposition for picking favorites, she couldn’t help but still think fondly of the Professor, thinking of how, in the end, he risked his life fighting alongside them against the evils that his own student would one day create. Sadly, Avalon hadn’t seen the Professor since the Battle, and she hoped desperately that he’d gone into hiding and was safe from the purge of blood-traitors that was happening in her own time.

When they had finished dinner, everyone stood up and Slughorn moved the rest of the party to the sitting area, where they continued their chattering from the comfort of the couches. She and Lestrange sat with Avery and Rosier while Riddle was deep in conversation with the Professor. Lestrange kept taking discrete sips from his flask, hiding it from sight anytime Slughorn turned towards him. His eyes had definitely lost a degree of their focus, though he was still infinitely better off than he had been when they were at the lake. 

She watched as Tom flashed his perfectly crafted grin at Slughorn, earning joyous laughter from the oblivious professor. Tom had Slughorn wrapped around his finger, and she wanted nothing more than to walk up to them and burst his bubble, derailing the conversation away from whatever surface level diversions he was spewing out. 

She glanced at the time and knew it was best if she left soon. She took Xavier’s hand in her own, breaking him away from his conversation with Rosier. His dazed eyes softened when they landed on her and he pressed a gentle kiss to her hand. “Yes, darling?”

“I’m not feeling too well. I think I’m going to head back to my room, if that’s okay.”

His eyes flooded with concern and he leaned towards her as he shifted his weight to face her. “Are you okay?”

Avery turned around, too, overhearing their conversation. “Is everything alright?”

She nodded, a little too quickly. “Yes, everything is fine. I just have a bit of a stomach ache so I’d like to call it a night.”

“I can walk you back,” both boys said in unison. Lestrange shot Avery a glare, but Orion just rolled his eyes.

“I’ll be okay, thank you,” she insisted, standing up before either of them could object. “Xavier, please thank Slughorn for allowing me to join tonight. I had a lovely time.”

He nodded and opened his mouth to speak, but she hastily turned and walked towards the exit before he could. She slipped away quickly and quietly, making sure not to divert any attention towards herself as she shrunk into the shadows and out of the party. 

Her feet carried her through the castle as rapidly as they could. The grounds were near empty, her only company being the moon that shone high up in the night sky. She hadn’t realized how long they had been in the party, her exit revealing a still night and a quiet castle. She was nearly running through the halls, her short heels clattering on the stones as she made her way towards the Slytherin Common Room entrance. It was quite a journey to arrive, but when she did, she looked around, making sure she was alone, before clearly stating the password Lestrange had told her. 

“Grindylow,” she whispered, and the entrance began to appear before her, revealing the opening to the common room. Her wand was grasped tightly in her trembling hands, and she prayed she wouldn’t have to use it. She figured she could obliviate anyone who spotted her, but was hoping that it wouldn’t come to that. 

Thankfully, not a single student was inside, all of them surely already in bed at the late hour on a school night. She knew she would have to work fast before the boys arrived back, so she scurried over to Tom’s room, slipping into it silently as she began her hunt for Merlin knew what.

His room was exactly what she would have expected: perfectly organized and clean to the point of obsession. Not a single thing was out of place, everything had a spot where it belonged. His bed was made, his desk was pristine, and several books stacked his bedside table. She didn’t know where to begin, so she just opened up the drawer in his desk and began searching for something-- anything-- that could hold any clues to the Horcruxes.

She found quills, homework, and several newspaper clippings of various events related to the war, though nothing particularly out of the ordinary. It was hard to leave things as she found them, but she made sure to make things appear to be untouched as she rummaged through his belongings. She decided that there was nothing of importance within his desk, so she moved over to his bookshelf, glancing through the titles to see if anything stood out to her. He had several textbooks, a couple of titles that she recognized from the Restricted Section of the library, and a few storybooks she didn’t recognize, but once again, she didn’t see anything that struck her as important. 

It was then that she began to feel anxious. She didn’t possess the luck that Harry always had. Perhaps coming here with no plan was not her brightest idea, though she knew that she had to start somewhere. A part of her felt as though there was a good chance that he was hiding something, anything, in his room, but she just wasn’t sure what it could be. She wished that Harry had been more open about the Horcruxes, for she found her lack of knowledge to be a sudden barrier that could have easily been avoided if she had just known what the objects were.

She walked to Tom’s bedside table and placed her hand on the drawer, about to open it when she heard the door creak. 

“Find what you’re looking for?”

She spun around and saw Riddle, holding his wand up to her face with his dark eyes narrowed on her, nothing but anger written across his features. Before she could register what was happening, he quickly disarmed her, her wand flying out of her own fingers and into his grasp. He held both of their wands in his hand, his grasp tight and unrelenting. He walked forward, the sheer fury in his eyes making her back away from him until her back hit the wall behind her. “What are you doing in my room?”

“I was looking for Xavier’s room,” she lied. 

“Have you already forgotten where you spent the night last week?”

“I-”

“What are you doing in my room, Hendrix?” he asked again, putting his wand underneath her chin. She tried to avoid his stare, and he simply pushed her head up with the wand, forcing her to look into his eyes. “I asked you a question.”

It felt as though the walls were closing in on her. She knew she needed her wand back. While she was skilled at wandless magic, memory charms were still too difficult to perform without the guidance of her wand. So, as she looked his hands clenched tightly over her wand, she did what she could to try and grasp it back. 

She raised her hand quickly, attempting to perform a wandless spell, but he noticed it immediately and pinned her hand to the wall, leaving no room for movement. “I’ve grown tired of your secrets,” he hissed.  _ “Legilimens.” _

He was more powerful than she thought he’d be at his age, and though she tried to fight off his mental attack, it proved to be a much tougher task than she had anticipated. She felt a painful force enter her forehead, feeling like someone had forced a nail between her eyes. As she fell victim to his magic, he began to see glimpses into her mind, into her memories.

_ She was lying on the floor, a pool of her own blood surrounding her as she writhed on the ground, screams escaping her lips every time she felt the blade enter her flesh in another deep laceration.  _

_ “Still don’t want to talk, little girl?” A man was hunched over her, a devilish grin on his lips as he looked at the bloodied blade in his hands, finding satisfaction in the way the crimson liquid dripped off its silver sheath. His forearm had a strange dark tattoo engrained onto his pale skin, a snake winding infinitely, topped by a skull.“That’s okay. I could do this all night,” he said before plunging the blade back into her flesh, another soul-crushing scream echoing through the walls as tears poured out of her bloodshot eyes. _

Avalon’s mind seared from the invasion, and her shock overtook her senses for a moment. It had been quite some time since anyone had been able to pry into her thoughts. She’d become immensely skilled at blocking mental attacks, as she carried important information regarding the Order and Harry. This was dangerous. Incredibly dangerous. She knew that if Tom was able to see into her memories, she risked him seeing glimpses of what he would one day become, and her entire cover would be blown. So, with all the strength she had within her, she mustered up enough energy to shove him out of her mind in one swift pulse of power and anger.

He staggered away from her when she finally pushed him out of her mind, falling to his knees in a disoriented haze, unprepared for her Occlumens defense. The action made his grip on her wand loosen. She wasted no time, summoning it back into her grasp before she stormed up to him, her eyes livid with an unabiding wrath that even he had never seen before. 

For the first time since their duel, he saw her gaze turn animalistic again as she grabbed him by the jaw, forcing him to make eye contact with her. “Two can play at that game,” she snarled before forcing her way into his mind wordlessly. 

_ He was young. No more than perhaps 6 or 7 years old, yet his coffee eyes already bore pain beyond their years.  _

_ “Freak! You’re a freak!” _

_ There were several kids surrounding him, all of them around his own age, pointing at him, some of them laughing at him, others staring in pure shock. A burly woman tried to approach him, pushing past the other children, but he backed away from her. Her cane echoed across the stone walls as she walked forward. She barely put any weight onto the cane, it didn’t look like she needed it for support. _

_ “Tom, how many times do you have to be told to stay away from the other children?” she asked, her voice cold and unloving as she walked towards him. His eyes were glued to the cane, and he began stumbling backwards, quietly begging her to stay back in a hushed whisper.  _

_ He looked around, his eyes frantic for a way to get away from the group. His fingers kept twitching, his heart was racing, and his breathing was shallow-- he was terrified. The lights around him flickered, and the others screamed again, backing out of the room as they tried to escape.  _

_ The woman looked around, her eyes narrowing on him as she stormed forward, lifting the wooden cane up into the air as she grabbed him by the hands, his knuckles still littered with fresh purple bruises. He tried to pull free, but as the first strike hit his knuckles, it began raining shards of glass, all of the lightbulbs shattering as he let out a pained scream.  _

The room swirled into an indistinguishable mess of dark nothingness, his memory contorting into another scene. 

_ There was rubble everywhere. Cries, shouts, and the sound of planes flying overhead wailed through the skies, the debris flying in the air as he struggled to get back up to his feet. He coughed so hard that he fell back to his knees, struggling to steady himself for long enough to find somewhere safer than the London street. _

_ His eyes were disoriented and hazy, lacking their usual sharp awareness as he shoved himself off of the ground. People were running past him in all different directions, the chaos all-consuming. He tried to follow the crowd, but they pulled him in all different directions. His feet collided with something on the floor, and he looked down to see a still body, fresh tears still staining her rosy cheeks. Just another faceless casualty of the war.  _

_ The ground shook as more and more explosions sounded off at a nearby distance and he quickly took cover inside a phone booth. It wouldn’t provide any protection, but it was all there was. All of the people there, himself included, became pawns to a game of chance. Death would be inevitable for some, survival random for others. They were nothing more than victims of unpredictable circumstance-- arbitrary fate that took nothing into account other than sheer chance. They were all powerless. Either they would become one with the rubble, or they would live to see another day. There was nothing-- no magic, no plan, no idea-- that could change their outcomes. It was simply out of their control. _

_ And that frightened him like no other.  _

_ He stared up above, his eyes drying from not blinking, but he couldn’t look away from the sky. His heart was nearly beating out of his chest, but he didn’t dare break his stare. If he were to die, he wanted to at least see it coming.  _

He was trying to push her out of his mind. The world around her began to flood back into her senses, and for a brief moment, she saw herself return to his bedroom, staring into his eyes that were now filled with a black rage that burned so dark she shuddered at the sight. But, her grasp on his psyche was relentless, forcing her way back into his mind for one last glimpse into his memories. 

_ The house was a mess. Grime covered the floors, cracks littered the walls like spiderwebs, and the man standing before him mirrored the same repugnant look.  _

_ “She brought shame to the Gaunt family name when she had you with your repulsive mudblood father!” the man screamed, his words slurred as he threw the bottle he was holding. It crashed against the wall, inches away from Tom’s head, shattering into a thousand pieces. “You never should have been born. Your mother deserved everything that came her way.” _

_ Tom didn’t speak, but his jaw was clenched as he listened to his uncle scream strings of profanities his way. He couldn’t hide the look of disgust on his face as he watched the man stumble before him-- a pathetic excuse for a pure-blood. A so-called descendent of Salazar Slytherin, himself… _

_ Repulsive. _

_ “You tainted our pure-blood name, you filthy half-breed!” the man screamed, raising his wand. _

_ Tom disarmed him in a flash of red, bright and blinding. _

The world around her became clear once more, his bedroom walls suddenly encircling her again as he shoved her out of his mind with one strong pulse of focused energy. His eyes were the first thing she saw-- and he was furious. 

Not even a second had passed before he lunged off his knees and wrapped a cold hand around her throat, slamming her into the stone wall behind her so hard that her head spun from the impact. As she felt his fingers dig into her skin, she clawed at his grasp, trying to pry him off of her, but his grip was relentless, hard as marble. 

“You’re going to regret that,” he hissed, his tone so quiet that it sent a chill down her spine.

Her voice was hoarse when she spoke, the air barely reaching her lungs as she croaked out, “Y-you don’t get to take from me and then get angry when I t-take back.”

She felt her head spinning, but refused to break his stare. Their eyes were both fervent with the same unyielding wrath, both of them livid with raw emotions that burned so powerful they made the air thick with unspoken rage. 

He couldn’t help but glance down at her skin, the scars scattered across her flesh suddenly catching his attention. He thought about what he had seen-- the way she had been carved to pieces under a stranger’s blade. The flurry of healed white lacerations scattered across her body were eternal reminders of the horrors she had lived through. He wanted to know why she had been tortured so brutally. Who had she angered to have deserved that?

She felt his grasp loosen on her neck and took it as an opportunity to shove him off with a strong burst of magic, blowing him back just enough to break free from her position against the wall. She began to hasten towards the exit, but he shot a hand out, grabbing her shawl. “Don’t walk away from me,” he snarled, trying to yank her back but only succeeding in ripping the sheer fabric off of her shoulders. 

When his eyes landed on the scar on her back, even he was stunned into silence. The word was cut so deep into her flesh that it made the other scars along her body look like mere papercuts. 

Traitor.

The anger in her eyes subdued to panic as she awaited his reaction, but he was left speechless, for the first time in his life. She hastily bent down and gripped the shawl, wrapping it around herself before she once again made a beeline for the exit. 

His voice stopped her. “Who are you?” he asked, his breathless voice horrifically accusatory. 

She lingered by the door for a moment and he watched as her fingers trembled atop the doorknob. When she looked up at him, her eyes were brimmed with tears, though he knew they weren’t from sadness. 

She was absolutely livid. 

Her voice was so cold it tore through his chest like a poisoned dagger when she finally spoke. “If you ever enter my mind again…I will kill you.” Without another word, she exited his room, the click of the door leaving him alone in the silence. 

He slumped against the wall, his mind replaying what he had seen from her mind over and over again. He realized then that he knew less about her than he had thought-- she was a complete enigma and he could not seem to figure out a thing about her. Every answer led to more questions, and every question led to more mysteries. 

She was hiding so much, and he needed to know why. He needed to know who she was, and why she had gone through so much pain, so much punishment, so much abuse. He finally understood one thing, though: the reason she was so skilled with Dark Magic was not because of her schooling, but because she had come face to face with the darkest corners of humanity and survived. He wondered why Avalon had been subject to such inhumane torture, what bothered him more was the fact that the man who had inflicted her such pain bore a mark on his arm that Tom had only ever seen before in his own imagination. 

_ If you ever enter my mind again…I will kill you. _

He replayed her words over and over in his mind. There was a darkness inside of her that he had thought only lived inside himself. And as he thought about the pure venom in her voice, he knew that she meant every single word she said. 


	9. Chapter 9

She scrambled out of the Slytherin common room as fast as her feet would carry her, angrily wiping at her eyes as hot tears of frustration spilled down her cheeks. Her thoughts were racing and she could barely walk straight-- everything was blurred in a furious haze. Her body burned with anger, her fingertips twitching and sparking with destructive magic as she stormed through the halls, her tears falling onto the stone floor beneath her.

He had seen her memories. He had entered her mind. He had violated the one part of her that had still remained unseen by Voldemort. 

And she hated herself for letting him in. She hated herself for not fighting it off more, for not being stronger, for not barricading her mind better. But most of all, she hated herself for showing weakness. 

She kept worrying that he had seen too much. Her heart was beating a thousand times per second and she struggled to keep her breathing steady. She couldn’t focus on anything other than the look on his face when he forced his way into her head-- empty, emotionless, devoid of empathy. He was a monster. A cruel, ruthless, monster that took what he wanted with no regard for privacy or permission.

But then, she thought about what she had seen in his mind. She could sense his emotions through the memories. She felt his disgust, his rage, his loneliness, his fear… he had been so scared. Genuinely, gut-wrenchingly terrified. She didn’t think Tom Riddle was capable of such feelings.

She turned a corner, coming abruptly face to face with a familiar blond. 

“Oh hey,” Avery nodded at her, smiling until the moment he fully noticed the state she was in. She tried to pass him, putting her head down and avoiding his stare, but he quickly turned his route to match hers, walking alongside her as he watched her with worry in his ocean blue eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine,” she said shortly, trying to walk speedily away from him. 

“Avalon, no, talk to me,” he said, stepping in front of her and stopping her stride. She angrily wiped at the tears in her eyes, annoyed at them for how they refused to cease. His face was ridden with concern. Not enjoyment, not amusement, not curiosity. Concern. 

It wasn’t until this moment that she realized how badly her hands were shaking. She couldn’t contain herself, it felt as though her entire body was on fire with a burning rage. Orion sighed and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. 

“Hey, it’s alright. You’re going to be alright. Will you sit with me for a bit? Let’s just talk.” 

She silently nodded, following him as he quietly led her upstairs. He looked around as they walked, his eyes searching for a proper place for them to speak privately, finally settling on perching on a windowsill and patting the area next to him for her to join. She climbed up, hugging her knees to her chest as she stared ahead, her body trembling violently as she kept thinking about Riddle. Avery watched her carefully, his eyes as gentle as his voice when he spoke again. “This seems like more than an upset stomach,” he said, referring to her excuse she used to leave the Slug Club. 

She couldn’t answer him. Her stare was blankly locked on a spot a few feet away as she blinked back tears. She hated silence, but she felt too frozen to speak. Her body rocked back and forth and she shut her eyes, trying to take in a deep breath, but all she could manage was short, shallow gasps of air. Her fingernails were digging into her palms so hard that her fists were straining under the pressure, but she barely even noticed. Avery watched as the veins on her hands grew more and more prominent before he sighed and leaned over, gently taking her hands into his own and unraveling her fists, rubbing small circles into her skin. “Don’t clench your fists when you’re stressed. Trust me,” he said, momentarily raising one of his hands to show her the crescent-shaped scars on his palms, “it doesn’t help.”

They sat like that for a few minutes: her staring straight ahead while he just held her hand, drawing indistinguishable figures into her skin with the pad of his thumb. The night air was cool and she slowly felt her senses returning to her, but she couldn’t help but feel frustration as her tears continued to pour down her cheeks. She hated it. She never wanted to look weak if she could help it. 

She even hated having his gaze glued on her. He wasn’t judgemental, and he wasn’t even critical, but she didn’t like it when people saw her looking so broken. It bothered her. So, she closed her eyes and just sat there, trying to block out the world. 

A few moments passed before she felt something tickle her nose. Her eyes opened once more to see a bright yellow butterfly sitting on the tip of her nose, its wings batting gently before it floated up and around her head, joining a couple of others as they fluttered around her and Orion. 

When she looked over at him, he was holding his wand in his hand and grinning at her-- when she raised an eyebrow he just shrugged. “It’s really hard to cry when there’s a butterfly on your nose.” She couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, and the sound of her choked out giggle made his smile grow wider. 

The butterflies did one last circle around her before they flew out the window, becoming smaller and smaller as they dove deeper into the distance of the inky night, until they were nothing more than tiny yellow specks in the distance.

She wiped at her eyes again, but her tears had stopped flowing. He chuckled, leaning back up against the windowsill. “See? You’re not crying anymore.”

“Guess not,” she said, a light laugh in her voice. She watched him curiously for a moment, still sniffling as she wiped the last few tears off of her cheeks. “I didn’t know you could do wordless magic.”

“I mean, I’m no expert. But, I’ve conjured enough butterflies to have this one spell down.”

“Why so many butterflies?”

“They cheer me up, too,” he said, a downcast smile finding its way onto his lips. She couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness as she wondered how many times Orion had conjured those butterflies…how many times he had  _ needed _ them. There was always something hidden behind his smile-- something that she couldn’t quite put a finger on. It was as though his smile was nothing more than a facade that hid a much darker self behind a wide pearly grin. But, it wasn’t darkness like Riddle’s, and it wasn’t even darkness like her own. It was darkness that hinted at an all-consuming experience of years and years of unrelenting heartbreak-- and for the first time, she looked at him and saw beyond his act. He looked out the window, staring out at the night sky as she took in a deep breath, her body starting to relax as she hugged her knees closer to her chest. It took a few moments before he spoke again. “Listen, you don’t have to share if you don’t want to…but could this all have anything to do with Riddle?” She tensed up a little bit, and he quickly added, “I noticed he left the party shortly after you did, and I can tell you two aren’t especially fond of each other.”

“Is it that obvious?” she asked, a jaded laugh escaping her lips.

He shrugged. “I mean, I understand. Riddle is…an acquired taste. Brilliant, no doubt, but he can be cruel, as well.”

She watched him carefully before saying, “You don’t strike me as the kind of person who would befriend someone like him.”

“He befriended my friends and was keen to have me in his circle when he found out about my father’s position,” he said. “And you’ll soon learn that it’s always better to let him have his way.”

“You don’t think he’s only using you?”

He paused, going over his words carefully before he sighed. “Everyone is using others and being used, it’s in our nature. But I think there’s good in everyone. His is just buried deeper down. Very deep.” She didn’t speak again after that, so they once again sat in a comfortable quiet until she felt his eyes glued to her. She turned to face him as he opened his mouth to ask, “Are you happy at Hogwarts?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she replied, too hastily to be believable. 

He smiled, the same harrowing tint hidden behind his deep blue eyes. “Avalon, I see the same pain in your eyes that I’ve seen in my own every time I’ve looked into a mirror for years now. I know you’re hurting, I just don’t know why.”

“I’m okay,” she lied. “I just have a lot on my plate right now.”

“I can see that much. Just know that if it’s ever too much for you, you can always talk to me.” She couldn’t sense anything but sincerity in his voice, his demeanor, his eyes, and she found herself believing him. 

“And the same goes for you,” she said. 

He laughed, and it sounded pleasant to her ears. There was an air of selflessness around him, around his soul, that she was drawn to. She felt as though he had spent his entire life putting others wants and needs before his own. He almost reminded her of Harry. “You’re a good one, Hendrix. I sometimes wonder how you got wrapped up with the lot of us Slytherins.”

“I could say the same about yourself.”

“You know, I was actually almost sorted into Hufflepuff,” he admitted, before quickly adding, “but if you tell any of the boys that, I’ll have no choice but to call you a liar.”

“I could definitely see you in Hufflepuff,” she said.

“Honestly, I could, too. But, my family has been only Slytherins for generations, they would have disowned me in a heartbeat if I broke that tradition. So I begged the Sorting Hat to change its mind and it did. Kind of a bummer-- would have been nice to have a common room by the kitchens instead of the damn dungeons that they threw us lot into.”

She laughed, and the sound of her happiness made him smile, too. He talked a lot-- he rarely left a moment go by without filling it with the sound of his own voice. And she liked that about him. She’d much rather hear him than be faced with the silence. 

He paused a moment before speaking again. “Speaking of the kitchens…are you hungry?”

“We  _ just _ had dinner at Slug Club.”

“Your point? There wasn’t even dessert,” he grumbled. “I’m going to grab a snack. Care to join me?” He slid off the windowsill and waited for her to come, too. She rolled her eyes before following in suit, hopping off the edge and following him as he led them towards the kitchens. 

“Are we even allowed into the kitchens at this hour?” she asked.

“It’s just the house-elves and they don’t mind,” he shrugged, a bounce in his step as he strode forward. “My girlfriend and I go all the time.”

“Girlfriend?” she grinned, nudging his elbow playfully. 

His cheeks flushed a rosy pink, but he laughed, “Oh, shut it.”

“Who is she?” 

“I’ll introduce you to her some time,” he smiled, but before he said another word, she saw his jaw clench as he swallowed down his next thought. “The boys don’t know about her, yet. And I’d like to keep it that way for a bit.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, why?”

“I’m just not ready to tell them. She’s just…” his words trailed off as he thought about his lover, and she could practically hear his heart skip a beat. “...Perfect. And good. And I want her to be just mine for a while before she has to be involved with all of us.”

She nodded. “I won’t say a word. I promise.”

“Thank you,” he said, his body easing back up as he let out a sigh of relief before he led them through a door that led down a flight of spiraling stairs. There were brightly lit paintings along the basement walls, each and every one of them adorning artwork of various foods. Orion walked up to one framed painting of a bowl of colorful fruit and tickled a pear, the fruit giggling before it shifted into a large, green door handle, revealing the entrance to the kitchens. He opened it up and they stepped in, the smell of freshly baked goods immediately hitting her nose the instant they entered into the familiar high-ceilinged room. The warmth of the fireplace along the back wall took her back to the cold winter nights when she, Fred, and George would come into the kitchens, grab a hot cocoa, and drink by the fire as they talked about the pranks they were planning to pull on the others. She couldn’t help but feel her heart drop into her stomach when she thought of them…

Fred.

She missed his laughter more than anything. 

Orion’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts. “Good evening, Tossy.” She looked over to see him crouched down, smiling at one of the house-elves. 

The small creature smiled excitedly up at him, bouncing up and down as he spoke. “Oh, hello, Mister Avery! Tossy was not expecting to see you tonight, but is very happy you are here! It is very good to see you, Mister Avery.”

“It’s good to see you, too,” he laughed. Another one of the elves scurried up to him and shyly tugged at the leg of his pants. “Hi, Bonsey. How are you?”

“Mister Avery has come with another friend,” the elf named Bonsey said, looking towards Avalon. “Bonsey has not seen her around the kitchen before.”

“This is Avalon Hendrix,” Orion said. “Avalon, meet Bonsey and Tossy.”

“It’s lovely to meet you both,” Avalon said, smiling at the two elves.

They both looked at each other, their eyes wide, before Tossy scampered over towards her. “Tossy thinks Miss Hendrix is very polite. Any friend of Orion Avery’s is a friend of Tossy.”

“Would Miss Hendrix and Mister Avery like anything to eat?” Bonsey asked, beaming at the two of them.

“Could we get a tray of sweets, please?” Avery asked the elves, who nodded frantically. 

“Tossy will get you that right away!” the small creature said before running off for a few moments. Avery was listening patiently to Bonsey tell a story about a few other students who came in earlier, and he nodded intently as the elf spoke about the experience. Avalon couldn’t help but smile at the way he interacted with the house-elves-- she had seen so many others treat the creatures with such cruelty that it warmed her heart to see him engage with them so fondly. They loved him, she could tell that much easily. 

Tossy scurried back a few moments later, a silver platter in his hands filled to the brim with an assortment of every single sweet that was in the kitchens. He stopped by Orion’s feet, looking up at him proudly as he extended the tray out. “Tossy has brought Mister Avery his favorite sweets!”

“This looks excellent. Thank you!” Orion said, taking the tray from the excited elf and walking over to a table, taking a seat and motioning for Avalon to join him. The elves went back to work, but they smiled any time he caught their eye, as though they were greeting an old friend. 

Avalon sat down by Orion and watched as he popped a treat into his mouth, a look of satisfaction washing over his features as the sugary dessert touched his tongue. She politely shook her head when he offered her one, but he just shrugged and popped another one into his mouth. “You’re kinder to the elves than most people I’ve met,” she noted.

He was hesitant to answer, almost as though he wasn’t sure if what she was saying was a compliment or not. “Yeah, I mean, there are a lot of house-elves at my own home so I’ve grown up with them in my life.”

“Are they treated well at your home?”

“Not particularly,” he sighed. “My parents were never very pleasant towards them. I think that’s why I made sure to be the opposite.” 

“Your parents seem-”

“Horrible,” he laughed. “Yeah, we don’t really see eye to eye on most things.”

“Like what?” she pressed.

He paused for a moment, debating his next words. “A lot of things, I guess. The way they expect me to live my life, the beliefs they want me to have, the route they’ve chosen for my future… I sometimes think they’d be much happier if I was more like Riddle or Lestrange or, honestly, any of the other boys.”

She saw his expression turn into something between humor and disappointment, so she offered a small smile and spoke. “If it’s any consolation, I’m glad you’re not more like them.”

“You mean you don’t think I’d be better off if I had Lestrange’s proclivity for expensive alcohol and shiny rocks?” he grinned, earning a laugh from her.

“Kindness suits you, Avery,” she said before popping one of the sweets into her mouth. They fell into light-hearted conversation and friendly banter after that, and she felt truly comfortable in his presence. Speaking with him felt like speaking with an old friend-- he was sincere, and she appreciated that. There were no games with him, he spoke his mind and was honest to the core. She didn’t think he had the ability for true hatred within him, and thought his one true fault was having terrible taste in friends. 

He filled the quiet with needless chit-chat, asking her about her life, her dreams, her favorite colors, her happiest memories, and she could feel the walls she had spent so much time building up slowly crumble around him. There was an air of authenticity about him that she trusted, and she felt comfort in his friendship, though despite the welcomed distraction that he was, she couldn’t stop her mind from straying towards the week that was to come. She knew that she would have to face Riddle and answer for why she was in his room, and the thought of that confrontation worried her. She feared that her cover could be blown, and moreso, she feared that he would ask her more about her memories. The time would come when she would have to talk to him, that much she knew, but for the time being, she was desperate to avoid that discussion for as long as possible.

But, still, as she and Orion spent the next hour chatting and laughing together in the kitchen until they were both so tired that they had to retreat to their own rooms, she felt happiness for the first time in a long time while in his presence. 

Much of the next few days were spent avoiding Riddle, and along with him, the other Slytherin boys. It proved to be a much tougher task than she had anticipated-- while she could ignore him in class and leave before he got the chance to confront her, she had to spend a good amount of her time hidden away in Ravenclaw Tower. She felt as though she had to constantly look over her shoulder. She wasn’t sure how angry he was at her, or to what extent his anger would carry him. He was, in fact, still a murderer, she had to remind herself, and while she was preparing to take him in a battle, she still knew that she couldn’t kill him until all the Horcruxes had been found and destroyed.

Xavier invited her to spend time with the Slytherins on a few occasions, though she rejected his invitation each time, which she could tell was beginning to quickly aggravate him. She could sense annoyance in his voice after she turned down his offer, and he was getting worse and worse at hiding his displeasure with her rejection. She was glad to keep receiving invitations to accompany them, though, because she thought to herself that if Riddle had told the others about her breaking into his dormitory, Lestrange would have surely stopped pursuing her. So, perhaps his incessant desire to persuade her into spending time with him was a good sign. 

She wondered why Riddle had kept their encounter a secret. Perhaps it had something to do with a desire to hide the fact that she had pried into his memories. It didn’t surprise her that he would keep any signs of his own weakness as a secret from the others-- he would die before he faltered his all-powerful perception. 

He had surely crafted quite a reputation for himself, she thought. An orphaned half-blood masquerading as a pure-blood elite. She almost pitied him for his hatred of his true self. Visions of the memory she had seen, where he had been insulted by his own uncle, swarmed her mind.

Not a moment had passed where she hadn’t been thinking about the memories she had seen. If she hadn’t known better, she would have felt bad for the boy and the traumas he had endured. She thought about the memory of him hiding from the Muggle Blitz in London. His own fear had consumed her senses as she relived that part of his childhood and she felt his horror as if it were her own. She wondered if his desire for immortality stemmed from his face-to-face encounter with his own near-death… if that fear had caused him to become fixated with avoiding his own end, no matter what the cost. It was sad, and she understood the fear of death-- she, too, had thought she was going to die more times than she could count, and each time scared her more than the last. But, as she lost more and more people, she started to come to the realization that what she feared more than death, itself, was living without those who made life worthwhile. She wondered if he would be different if he had someone in his life that made him understand there are worse things than fearing your own demise. Though, despite her understanding of his fear, she refused to fall victim to false empathy and commiserate the deranged soul. Regardless of his rough upbringing, she would not pity a boy who had allowed his darkness to consume not only himself, but all those around him. 

Still, she had felt an odd sense of discomfort watching those vile memories. They were not easy to view and she had felt uneasy intruding on those privat pieces of his mind, though her anger and disgust still outweighed her heavy conscience. It was not difficult to justify her own actions when she reminded herself of the gravity of his choices that led her to invade his mind. He had, in fact, invaded hers, first.

She shuddered at the thought of him seeing her at her most vulnerable-- on the floor, whimpering like a child, surrounded by her own crimson lifeline and living at the mercy of her opponent. Powerless, inches from death, and absolutely outmatched.

Her fists were clenched, though she hadn’t noticed until then. She did her best to avoid doing that, now. She had seen Avery several times since their late night in the kitchen, and each time, he made sure to unravel her fists anytime he saw her beginning to dig her nails into her own flesh. They talked between classes and had dinner together once, and she always ended up leaving their moments together feeling more at peace than she had been prior. He was a breath of fresh air amid an atmosphere of poison. 

As she hastily made her way back towards Ravenclaw Tower after her last class of the day, she was determined to travel without bumping into any familiar faces. Though, as she heard her name called out from behind her, she knew that her plan had already been foiled.

“Wait up a minute, will you?”

She turned around, quickly plastering a fake smile onto her lips as she saw Xavier running to catch up to her. He didn’t spin her around like he usually did when he finally saw her, and his face lacked its classic sly grin. Instead, a downcast glimmer of annoyance graced his features, evident in the way his lips were turned into the faintest of a scowl. 

“Hi, Xavier,” she said, trying to keep her voice as light as possible.

“I called out to you after class but you ignored me,” he said, dismissing her greeting.

“I must not have heard you,” she lied.

“I know you did because you looked in my direction before packing your things and scrambling out,” he said, his green eyes narrowing in on her. “You’ve been acting strange since Slug Club. You’ve avoided me at nearly every opportunity, refused to join us at night, and have barely even left your room aside from classes. Care to explain why?”

“You’re just being dramatic,” she said, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms. 

“Just tell me the truth,” he replied, shaking his head. “What did I do? Why are you mad at me?”

“I’m not mad at you-”

“Then why avoid me?”

“I’m not avoiding you!” she replied, rather loudly. The sounds of footsteps all around them made her anxious. She wanted to get back to her room, far away from the possibility of running into Riddle, and her confrontation with Lestrange was merely holding her back. “I’m sorry you feel that way, but I assure you, you’re mistaken.”

He let out an exasperated sigh before rubbing his temples and tugging at the ends of his curly hair, trying to come up with his next words as she glanced towards the end of the hallway, desperate to make a beeline for her escape. She began walking away, but he quickly got in her way, leaning an arm on the wall before her, blocking her path as he towered over her. “Go for a walk with me?” 

“I can’t-”

“Of course you can’t,” he grumbled, earning a scowl from her. He noticed her irritation and he forced a smile, trying to hide his agitation for her sake. “I’m sorry. I’ve just missed seeing your beautiful face,” he said, reaching out and taking her hand into his. He gently pulled her closer, until she was looking up into his eyes, the smell of expensive cologne and a hint of dark wine tickling her nose from the proximity. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled, kissing the top of her head. “You can’t blame me for going mad from separation, can you?”

“Surely, I can, but I won’t,” she said, making him laugh. “I’d really love to go on a walk with you, I swear. But, I’m swamped with classwork right now,” she lied. “What if you join me for breakfast tomorrow morning around 9?”

“You mean wake up before noon on the weekend?” he said, raising an eyebrow and laughing. “For you, anything. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow,” she said, getting on her tip-toes and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek before turning and heading out, completely oblivious to the wide grin that overtook his face when her lips left his skin. He headed back towards his own destination, a new bounce in his step as he smirked to himself, happy with the course of their conversation.

  
  


On the other end of the castle, Tom made his way towards Slughorn’s office briskly, wasting no time to stop and talk to any of his peers. Slughorn had asked to see him, though he wasn’t sure exactly why as he strode towards his destination. He was lost in his thoughts, as he had been for most of the past few days, ever since he caught Hendrix in his room. No matter how hard he tried, he could not stop thinking about her-- he needed to know why she had been snooping in his room. What could she have been after?

He knew that she wasn’t fond of him-- that much was obvious-- but he didn’t know what had driven her to the point of sneaking into his bedroom and searching through his things. Was she that desperate to find something against him that she was willing to put herself at the risk of being caught?

A part of him worried that perhaps she was looking for something more. He had to question Lestrange later that night, secretly trying to find out if the boy had let anything about the Horcruxes slip to Hendrix, but it seemed as though the fool had at least kept his mouth shut about that, so he didn’t question any further. Surely, there was no reason for her to suspect anything-- Tom had done everything in his power to ensure that the Horcruxes were kept a tight secret only known by himself, Rosier, and Lestrange-- the most loyal of his crew.

He concluded that she had most likely just been trying to find some kind of dirt on his name, prying through his belongings in hope of discovering some secrets that she could use against him at a later time. He didn’t put it past her, she was horrifically irritating and stopped at nothing short of getting her way. 

Still, she knew too much. Every time he thought about how she had forced her way into his mind, his blood boiled. She knew about his upbringing, his fears, and, most importantly, his blood-status. It wasn’t clear to him why she hadn’t outed his secret-- if she exposed his half-blood nature, his entire reputation would be destroyed and his supporters would no longer view him as their leader. The power was in her hands, and he hated that more than he could describe. He had been so angry after their encounter that he debated chasing after her and simply firing a Killing Curse at her back. The thought of watching her fall to the floor lifeless was awfully tempting to him, though he knew that if another student at Hogwarts was found dead, the possibility of the school shutting down was excruciatingly high. After the events of the year prior when he’d opened the Chamber of Secrets, security at the school was at an annoyingly all-time high, and one wrong move could have the whole castle closed, meaning he would have no choice but to go back to the orphanage. 

That alone was reason enough to keep her alive, no matter how terribly infuriating she was. He thought about obliviating her, too, but he worried that she would be trained to deflect any attacks on her memory. Her mind’s defenses had been stronger than he had foreseen, and even gaining access into her memories had been a much tougher task than he had anticipated. 

Though, that small glimpse that he had gotten into her mind had not left his thoughts even once in the past few days. He kept thinking about her, lying in her own blood as she was cut into time and time again by that man. 

He had never seen her look so broken, so weak. She had been so drained of color that he may have mistaken her for a corpse had it not been for the harrowing screams escaping her lips every time she was maimed once more. 

And the man that had done that to her… He wondered if that was the same person who had carved that hideous scar into her back.

_ Traitor. _

He wondered what it meant. Could she have gotten caught aiding mudbloods? Or perhaps fallen in love with one, herself? He wasn’t sure, but the curiosity was eating him alive. 

And Tom couldn’t even stop thinking about the marking that had been on the man’s arm. A dark skull with an infinitely winding snake coming out of its mouth. It was a marking he had thought of in his own mind, time and time again. He had thought it was an image created from his own imagination, though seeing it ingrained into that stranger’s arm made him wonder if it was more than just a figment of his own mind’s creation. He tried to think of if he had perhaps seen the marking in a book before and forgotten, but as much as he tried to reflect, he couldn’t come up with a valid answer to his own pondering. 

He walked into the Potions classroom and saw Professor Slughorn hunched over his desk, a small vial in his hands. “Good evening, Professor.”

Slughorn turned around, smiling when his eyes landed on Tom. “Oh, Mr. Riddle, thank you for coming in to see me.”

“Of course, sir. What is it that you wished to speak to me about?”

“Ah, yes, I wished to inquire about one of your classmates. Miss Hendrix.”

Tom fought the urge to roll his eyes and instead just asked, “What about her, Professor?”

“Well,” Slughorn said, “After she joined us for dinner this week as Mr. Lestrange’s date, I’ve been keeping a close eye on her to see if I might consider extending an invitation to her to join our ranks. I wanted your opinion on her first. As my brightest student, I respect your insight and want to hear your thoughts.”

Tom wondered if he should tell the Professor his actual thoughts, or his filtered opinion on the girl. On one hand, he thought she was one of the most arrogant, unbearable, deranged lunatics he had ever met, though on the other hand, he did believe she was stronger than most witches and wizards at Hogwarts. He decided to give an answer somewhere between the two extremes. “I believe she has potential,” he said. “She can be quite impulsive and emotional, but her talents are undeniable.”

“Do you reckon she will achieve great things in her lifetime? I have gotten the sense that she is talented in most disciplines.”

“With some guidance, I do believe she could be a force to be reckoned with, sir,” he replied. 

Slughorn seemed pleased with the answer and nodded, a smile finding its way onto his lips. “Excellent. Then I will extend a formal invitation to her next week after class.” Tom’s eyes skirted over to the small vial of pearl-colored liquid that Slughorn was holding, and when the Professor noticed his wandering gaze, he spoke once more. “The Seventh Year students were brewing Amortentia today.”

“The love potion?” Tom asked. He had to try and hide the distaste in his voice. Love potions had always disgusted him-- his own mother had lured his pathetic Muggle father into falling in love with her under the effects of one of those vile potions. He saw no reason for their creation. Love was nothing more than a weakness, and to brew it felt like a waste of ingredients. 

“Yes,” Slughorn said, unscrewing the top and smelling the potion. “It’s a very powerful potion, the most powerful of all the love potions in existence. It has a distinct scent for all those who smell it-- it resembles the things that they most love. Oftentimes it will have traces of the people they most love, even if one doesn’t realize they are attracted to that person quite yet.” He looked down at the potion and smiled, fondly. “I smell chocolate, fire, and… I believe there’s a hint of brandy in there, too.” He held the potion out for Tom to grab, and Tom reluctantly took it from his hands. “Go on, feel free to give it a sniff.”

He brought the vial up to his nose and inhaled before he nodded and smiled. “I smell parchment, rain, and perhaps a hint of lavender.”

Slughorn looked thrilled at the answer and grinned, taking the potion back and screwing the lid back on. “Surely reminiscent of a lucky lady out there. Interesting… very interesting. Well, I appreciate you coming down and speaking with me. I won’t take up any more of your time this evening.”

“Always a pleasure speaking with you, Professor,” Tom said.

“You, too, Mr. Riddle.”

Tom nodded and headed towards the door, exiting the room just as quickly as he had entered it. He felt an air of aggravation as he left, focusing, now, on the way he pitied those who believed in love. He thought about Nott, and how he had lost so much of himself to his ‘love’ for his whiney girlfriend. He thought about Lestrange, and how he was so preoccupied with his infatuation for Hendrix that he was blinded by his own weakness. He thought about his father, and how he had fallen prey for the deranged scheme of a woman mad with the obsession of love. 

Love was a weakness. 

Nothing more, nothing less.

And, he was glad that he was stronger than the others-- he would never allow himself to be lured by the grasp of love nor its false promises. No, he was better than that. He wouldn’t allow it. 

He thought about the Amortentia. His answer to Slughorn had been a lie.

He had smelled nothing. 

No parchment, no rain, no lavender. Nothing at all.

And he was convinced that made him stronger than the rest. 


	10. Chapter 10

The weekend blew by quicker than Avalon had expected, though slower than she had hoped. She spent most of her time in solitude, retreating into her dorm at most hours of the day in an attempt to avoid Riddle for as long as possible. She had managed to stay out of his way for the past few days, still fearing their inevitable confrontation after she had been caught in his room, but she was growing restless in her dorm. 

She had breakfast with Xavier and he was in a much better mood than he had been the days prior, his normal Cheshire Cat grin finally finding a home back on his lips as he told her about how it had been the first time he’d been awake in time for breakfast since his second year at Hogwarts. They talked a lot about what life had been like at the castle before she had transferred-- she was hoping he would talk more about Riddle and give her clues about the Horcruxes, but all he really touched on was his friendship with Rosier and how the two of them had an inclination towards getting joint detentions at least once a week since they first stepped foot onto Hogwarts six years ago. 

It was, for the most part, a relatively uneventful weekend. Both she and Zelda had been busy studying and completing assignments, so they were in their room with their noses in their books for almost every waking moment. 

When Monday came, she felt equal parts relieved and anxious: relieved that she would finally be able to leave her room and attend classes, giving her an excuse to once again roam beyond the walls of Ravenclaw Tower, but anxious about seeing Riddle. A part of her hoped that perhaps he had already moved on from their encounter and would let the topic go-- if he hadn’t brought it up in the past few days, maybe that was a sign that he was just as keen on moving past it as she was. He had, after all, been just as exposed as she was, so she wondered if he would ignore it the way she hoped he would. 

Her hope seemed to harbor a hint of truth when she sat down in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Riddle’s eyes flickered over towards her as she walked into the classroom, but he did not spare her more than a moment’s time before returning his gaze to Rosier who was sitting beside him. 

As usual, she kept her head down as she made her way to the back of the class, ignoring all of the stares of her peers as walked to the furthest table, where Xavier was saving her a seat. No matter how much time passed, it seemed her classmates refused to accept her as one of their own-- their icy glares followed her no matter where she went, serving as a constant reminder that they viewed her as a threat. Tensions were still too high at this time, and her Durmstrang reputation seemed to follow her everywhere. She paid it no mind-- she wasn’t here to make friends-- though it did feel odd to be so openly disliked on campus. 

When she sat down by Xavier, his arm found a home along the back of her chair almost by instinct, and she smiled at him as he gave her shoulder a slight squeeze. “Good morning, darling,” he greeted her, a lazy smile sewn onto his features as his still half-asleep gaze fell upon her. His voice was still raspy, a clear giveaway that he had woken up not too long ago, surely staying in bed for as long as possible before making his way to class with not a moment to spare.

“Good morning,” she replied, her attention divided between him and Riddle, sitting a few rows ahead. By the looks of it, Riddle didn’t seem angry at her anymore. He paid her no mind as class began, his focus solely directed at Merrythought as she taught the class about various shielding spells. Xavier kept whispering small jokes here and there to Avalon, earning light laughter each time he quietly disrupted the professor with his ever-present inability to focus on anything other than his own amusement. Eventually, Merrythought grew tired of his constant interruptions and forced him to join her at the front of the classroom to demonstrate the magic she had spent the last hour teaching, but, much to her surprise and displeasure, he was able to perfectly execute the spells despite his lackluster attention span. 

Class ended shortly after and as Avalon began walking towards the door, Xavier following close behind as they headed towards their next class together, she was stopped by the sound of her name being called out. 

“Hendrix.”

His voice was so calm it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. It took a great deal of willpower to turn and face Riddle as he walked lithely towards them, Rosier by his side as they caught up with her and Lestrange. 

His eyes bore deep into hers as he spoke to Lestrange and Rosier, refusing to break his eye contact with Avalon as he said, “Boys, we’ll catch up with you in Potions.” 

Xavier debated objecting, but he knew better than to dare speak back to Tom, so he simply shot Avalon one last look before he and Rosier turned and began walking towards their next class. The air between Avalon and Tom felt thin as they were left in their isolation, the class rapidly emptying as students disbanded to get on with their days. 

“What is it, Riddle?” she asked, forcing a clear and confident voice.

He didn’t answer her-- instead, he grasped her arm, right above her elbow, with a grip tight enough to almost force out a yelp, but soft enough to pass through other students in the hall inconspicuously as he led them out the classroom and into the busy corridor outside. 

“Let me go,” she hissed, trying to yank her arm away, but only being met with a tighter grasp as he kept leading them in the opposite direction of the Potions classroom. “Where are you taking us? We’re going to be late for class, you twat.”

“Surely, Slughorn will understand,” the Prefect said, his tone unwaveringly calloused. His eyes scanned the nearby area, finding what they were looking for when they landed on a nearby alcove hidden partially by draping curtains before it. Without a moment's hesitation, he shoved her into the tight space, blocking her exit with his own body, staggering over her as he leaned his arm against the wall, staring at her look of annoyance with mirrored irritation. “Have you not grown tired of hiding from me yet?”

“Not yet, no,” she said, rubbing the blossoming bruise on her arm as she shrugged.

He rolled his eyes. “You’re a child.”

“And you’re a bore,” she retorted. “Now, out of my way, I have to get to class,” she grumbled, attempting to duck under his arm and bow out of the space, but he merely lowered his arm, catching her in his hold before she could get away. The action earned a groan, but she crossed her arms and slumped against the windowsill, staring at him with daggers in her glare. “What do you want?”

“I want to know why you were in my room.”

She didn’t have an answer to his question. Not one that he would believe, anyway. So, she tried to route the conversation away from his question-- she tried to just get under his skin. “And I want to know why you took it upon yourself to invade my private memories.” 

“You took it upon yourself to invade my private space. It was merely a defense,” he said nonchalantly. 

“A defense? Against what? Do you already feel so threatened by me, Riddle?” she said with a smirk on her lips. A momentary look of irritation flashed across his usually stoic features, which made her grin only widen at the slight victory. 

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he said, though she could sense his calm demeanor deteriorating as they spoke. 

“I don’t know, I saw some pretty interesting things…”

He took a step forward, and she inched back until she was pressed against the window. The rest of the students were beginning to all pile into their classes, leaving the corridor increasingly empty. Still, he spoke in a hushed tone, making sure nobody could hear him as he hissed, “If you dare tell anyone about anything that you saw, I will make sure they are the last words you ever speak.”

“What? Scared I’ll blow your cover as a half-blood-”

He cut her off before she could finish her sentence, his voice struggling to stay level. “I advise you to choose your next words very carefully, Hendrix.”

She refused to look away as he glared down at her, his dark eyes filled with the same fury that hers bore. “You may have the entire school fooled, but I see right through your act. You’re nothing more than a pathetic boy who is terrified of people finding out the truth about what he really is,” she said, her voice gradually rising in volume as she grew more and more angry with the boy standing before her. 

“You have the nerve to call me pathetic?” He laughed, and the sound was harrowing. “You, the girl who flinches whenever a book falls in class? The girl whose hands shake every second of every day? What are you so afraid of? That man coming back and finishing what he started?” He said, his voice filled with pure venom as he referred to the man in her memories.

“You don’t know the first goddamn thing about me,” she yelled, shoving her hands against his chest, trying to push him away from her. 

Instead, he quickly caught her by the wrists, holding her hands firmly against him as he held her struggling form in his, glaring down at her with ice in his stare. “I know all I need to know about you. You act so high and mighty, as if you’re morally superior to everyone around you. But, it’s all a lie. You’re just as bad as anyone else.”

“Watch your mouth,” she snarled, balling her fists in his grip as she took a threatening step towards him. 

“Your own darkness scares you at times, doesn’t it? You wonder if all the abuse you faced finally took a toll on you? I can tell you, it clearly did. And it’s not a bad thing-- I don’t know why you try so hard to hide it. As much as you’d like to deny it, you don’t fight darkness, you’re one with it.”

“I said watch your damn mouth.” He didn’t stop talking though. Her anger only motivated him.

“Face it, Hendrix, you’re just as damaged as the rest.”

“I may be damaged, but at least I’m not fucking broken like you,” she hissed, yanking her hands away from him in one swift motion. 

The drapes around them were pulled back, revealing the face of their Transfiguration Professor. She saw Tom’s face quickly dissolve into a calm look of indifference, a slight smile finding its way onto his lips as he turned to face Dumbledore. “Hello, Professor.”

“Mr. Riddle, Miss Hendrix…is everything alright?” he asked, looking between the two of them suspiciously. “If I’m not mistaken, the two of you should be in class right now, is that not so?”

“We were just about to head to Potions, sir,” Riddle said. “We were merely discussing an assignment and lost track of time.”

“I see,” the professor said, nodding absent-mindedly. “Well, then. Off you two go. I’m sure Professor Slughorn will not want you interrupting his class so I suggest you do hurry.”

“Yes, Professor,” Avalon said, speaking for both her and Tom before walking past Riddle, who had moved to the side when he saw Dumbledore.

“I will see you both in Transfiguration at the end of the day,” Dumbledore said, nodding at them as they scurried off towards the Potions class together. Neither one of them spoke to the other as they swiftly made their way across the castle grounds, both of them walking in a tense silence that lasted all the way until they made it to the classroom. 

Tom opened the door and walked in, not bothering to hold the door for her as she walked in behind him. Slughorn’s lesson was disrupted as they made their way to the back of the class-- Avalon sat by Xavier and Tom by Adonis. 

“Mr. Riddle, Miss Hendrix, please refrain from interrupting class with your tardiness in the future,” the Professor said. 

“My apologies, Professor,” Tom said. “We lost track of time while discussing an assignment.” He lied so effortlessly-- the words just flowed off his tongue without the need for a single moment of hesitation. She thought about the difference between the Tom she knew and the Tom that the rest of the school was forced to see. He had all of them wrapped around his finger, only showing them the parts of himself that he wanted to see. 

But she knew better. She knew he was nothing more than a monster. An indignant monster with no hope for salvation. A part of her, though, was worried that she might be, too. 

His words kept circling in her mind no matter how hard she tried to cast them out. Surely, she couldn’t harbor the same darkness within her that he held, that was madness. There was no way that the things she had endured had corrupted her mind to the point of being morally level with someone as twisted as Riddle. No. She was nothing like him. And she refused to believe that she was anything similar. 

They were like day and night-- the sun and the moon. Opposites, completely different from one another. He was vain, cared only about himself, and wanted nothing more than power. She was only here to save the ones she loved. He was a murderer. A vile villain in both this time and her own. 

So why could she not stop thinking about what he had said?

Undoubtedly, her friends had always championed her in morality-- it was hard to compete with someone like Harry when it came to making the most selfless decisions. He seemed to think that one could only truly banish darkness with love and light. She, on the other hand, believed that all was fair in war. It was called war for a reason-- she knew that nobody could ever truly leave a battle without getting their hands dirty. Some may think that you can always choose to be good, but she knew that in order to fight for what is right, sometimes you have to do what seems wrong. 

She would kill to protect those she loved, and she would never think twice about it.

Perhaps, that was the difference between her and her friends. They had always wanted to fight bad with good, and she knew they had to fight it with power. 

And they had died in their quest to remain fighting for the light.

She wondered if that was why she was still alive: maybe she had sacrificed her light for her life. The thought was sickening to her, but she tried not to focus on it too much. It harbored a guilt in her that ate her up inside-- as if her survival had been a direct byproduct of succumbing to the same darkness that her friends had died trying to fight. 

She tried to pay attention to the lesson, but time ticked by at an excruciatingly slow rate. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, Tom had gotten into her head and she couldn’t stop thinking about what he had said to her. It bothered her to the point where her attention in class was solely focused on watching the back of Riddle’s head, paying little mind to the lesson at hand. 

When class finally ended, she was more than eager to pack her things and exit as quickly as possible, but the Professor called out her name, stopping her in her tracks. 

“Miss Hendrix, if you wouldn’t mind staying a few minutes to chat.”

She let out a quiet sigh before turning around and smiling. “Yes, Professor?”

Slughorn waited for the rest of the students to pile out of the classroom, only speaking when the room had finally become inhabited by only the two of them. “Miss Hendrix, in the short weeks that you have been a student here at Hogwarts, many of us, myself included, have become quite impressed with your natural aptitude for success.”

“Thank you, sir,” she said, not entirely sure where the conversation was headed.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I asked you to stay after class,” he said, as if he could see the confusion on her face. “Well, after you joined us last week for dinner when accompanying Mr. Lestrange, I think I can speak for all of us when I say that your presence was a very welcomed addition to our ranks. You see-- I hope I’m not being too forward but, I see a lot of potential in you and I have a feeling you will accomplish great things in your life. If you’d like, I would love to extend a formal invitation to you to join us from now on at our meetings. We have dinners weekly, but do feel free to come go as you wish. I understand your studies must come first. It is, in fact, nothing too serious, just dinner much like the night you attended, but I would love to have you in attendance.”

She couldn’t help but smile-- his speech sounded almost exactly how it had when he had asked her to join Slug Club in her own time, as well. “I’d be honored, sir.”

A look of pure elation overtook his face as he grinned ear to ear. “Delightful! I’m very pleased to hear you’ll be joining us from now on.” He paused, taking a moment to try and contain his excitement before he spoke again. “Well, I won’t keep you any longer. I know you have another class to get to.”

“Thank you for your invitation, sir. I look forward to future dinners,” she said, waving as she scurried off to her next class. 

The rest of the day dragged by uneventfully. She could barely focus throughout any of her classes, her mind too preoccupied with the events of earlier to spare any attention for her studies. Sometime around halfway through the day, she ran into Orion, who within moments of seeing her, immediately asked why she was acting so distant. While she didn’t bother to give him all the details, she admitted that an interaction with Riddle had clouded her mind, and he sat with her for a few minutes trying to make sure she was okay. His friendship was quickly growing to be one of her saving graces at the school, and she found herself infinitely grateful for having him and Zelda to confide in when she needed them. 

Before she knew it, she was once again sitting in Transfiguration. Zelda was at the desk by her, and was thankfully paying enough attention for the both of them. Avalon made a mental note to remember to ask her roommate for notes later, knowing she would have to catch up with her studies at some point.

Dumbledore stood in the front of the class, wrapping up his lecture as the sun began to set through the window, casting a golden hue over the students, all of which were beginning to have their minds wander towards their plans for the night when class ended. “As you can see, changing a living being into another being is a task that can be mastered with practice,” he said as he transformed a small imp in a cage at the front of the class into a raven. “And, changing an inanimate object into another inanimate object can also be achieved,” he said, morphing a quill on his desk into an hourglass. “What is much more difficult to achieve, however, is the transfiguration of an inanimate object into a living creature. Which brings me to the topic of your next assignment.”

Zelda leaned forward in her chair, paying close attention as she scribbled down notes about the lesson. Avalon looked around the class, her eyes landing on Xavier who was fast asleep already. She wondered how the boy managed to drift off during nearly every lecture-- it was almost impressive.

“For the next month, you and a partner will be given an object and will be tasked with turning it into a living creature,” Dumbledore said, earning a chorus of groans from the class. 

“This should be fun,” Zelda said, nudging Avalon. “We should turn ours into a fennec fox. I reckon if we choose something too small, we won’t get as good of a mark. But, we have to be realistic about the size-”

“I will be choosing your partners,” the Professor announced. Zelda let out an exasperated sigh, but Dumbledore kept speaking, walking towards Avalon and Zelda’s table. “Miss Shacklebolt, you and Mr. Lestrange will be turning this goblet into a creature of your choosing,” he said, placing a silver chalice onto their desk.

Zelda’s jaw dropped wide open as she looked towards the sleeping boy in the back of the class. “Professor, you cannot be serious. With all due respect, is there no chance I could be paired with someone more…” she couldn’t hide the irritation in her voice as she spoke. “...Conscious?”

Rosier nudged Lestrange and he bolted upright, blurting out, “What have I missed?”

Dumbledore returned his attention to Zelda, who groaned as she stared at her disheveled partner. “I hope your excellent study habits will rub off on Mr. Lestrange.” He paused for a moment, looking towards Avalon as he continued to speak. “I find oftentimes, unlikely pairs can lead to the best results.” He walked back to his desk, grabbing a coin before making his way back towards Avalon and placing it before her. “Miss Hendrix, you and Mr. Riddle will be working on changing this coin into something filled with life.”

Avalon and Tom both opened their mouths to object, “Professor-” 

“My mind is made up. I will take no further complaints about pairings,” he said, silencing the both of them.

She felt her heart sink into his stomach. Never before had she felt such animosity towards Dumbledore, suddenly feeling the urge to scream at the smug look written on her Professor’s face. The irritation she showed was the same agitation that was strewn across Riddle’s own face as he glared at his new partner from across the room. As Dumbledore continued assigning partners and objects, Avalon felt dread rise within her as she thought about the month that was to come. 

“At least Riddle has a brain,” Zelda grumbled, burying her head in her hands. “I can’t believe I’m stuck with that… that moron!” She quickly added, “No offense to your taste in men.”

Avalon could barely pay attention as Dumbledore wrapped up class, she was too busy dreading what was to come. An entire month working with Riddle-- as if there was anything that she would like to do less. On one hand, she thought it could be a good chance to learn more about him and find information about the Horcruxes. But on the other hand, she knew that in order to learn more about him, that meant they’d have to resist the urge to kill each other when they were together, which, evidently, was proving to be a much tougher task than either of them were prepared to handle.

She grabbed her things and started walking out of the class with Zelda after instruction finally ended when Riddle strode past her, purposely bumping harshly into her shoulder as he shoved his way to the exit. He barely glanced over his shoulder when he hissed out, “Sorry…” before taking a short pause and looking her up and down with a cold stare and adding, “... partner.”


	11. Chapter 11

“I swear Dumbledore is just trying to make my life difficult,” Zelda grumbled as she angrily shoved her books, quills, and a notepad into her school bag. For the past three days, hardly a minute had passed where Zelda had not been complaining about being partnered with Xavier for their Transfiguration assignment. It was amusing to witness the sweet girl Avalon was used to suddenly shift into an angry and irritated version of herself the moment her grades were put on the line. It became increasingly evident to Avalon that Zelda’s entire mood and demeanor depended on how she was feeling in regards to her studies-- a true Ravenclaw through and through. “You know when I asked him if he wanted to work yesterday he said that he couldn’t because he was-”

“Busy drinking with Rosier,” Avalon finished for her.

“Did I mention that already?” 

“Only four times,” Avalon giggled. 

Zelda let out an exasperated sigh. “The worst part is that he’s actually a quite talented wizard-- he just refuses to stay awake long enough to hear the lessons.”

“I’m sure working with him won’t be that bad,” Avalon offered.

“Fingers crossed,” Zelda said. “When are you meeting with Riddle?”

“I’ll leave with you. He’s already in the library, I shouldn’t keep him waiting,” she replied. Riddle had insisted that they start the project early on. He always wanted to get assignments out of the way as early as possible, so even convincing him to wait for the past three days had been a challenge of its own. She was reluctant to start working with him, though even she knew that they had to start sooner than later. The task at hand was not easy-- she had been trying to turn that damn coin into a small animal for the past few days and failed miserably on her own. 

It was horribly annoying-- how was it that she had blasted the Killing Curse without batting an eye, yet couldn’t turn a measly coin into a cat? 

“I’m going to leave now,” Zelda said, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “I’m meeting up with Xavier at the bottom of the Tower and we’re going to head to the Great Hall. The boy refuses to step foot into the library-- wouldn’t work with me until I agreed to go somewhere else. He’s infuriating I just-” she cut herself off to groan. “Whatever, let’s go.”

Avalon laughed, grabbing her own things, making sure to take the coin and put it in her bag, before following Zelda out the door and down the stairs of the Tower. When they stepped outside, Xavier was already waiting there, his black shirt partially unbuttoned and his curly hair disheveled, as though he had just woken from a nap. His eyes landed on Avalon, completely disregarding Zelda as he took ahold of her hand and spun her around, pulling her into his arms and planting a kiss atop her head. “I didn’t expect to see you, darling. What a lovely surprise.”

The familiar scent of cologne and wine struck her nose as he held her close, the heat of his body a comforting contrast against the cool night air. “Xavier, have you been drinking again?”

He shushed her, holding back a laugh as Zelda’s ears perked up and she walked forward, slapping him lightly on the arm. “I swear on Merlin’s grave if you showed up drunk to our study session, Lestrange-”

“Relax, Shacks,” he said, earning a raised brow at the nickname. “I only had a single glass.”

“You are unbelievable,” Zelda muttered, rubbing her temples as she fumed at her partner. “Truly, I mean that.”

“You’re too kind,” he replied, rolling his eyes before returning his gaze to Avalon. “Will you be joining us? Tell me you will.”

“Unfortunately, I will be joining Riddle,” she said, the distaste evident in her voice. 

“Try not to kill each other, will you?” Xavier asked, tilting her chin up to look at him. “I’ve grown quite fond of having you around.”

“No promises,” she said, but smiled nonetheless as they began making their way through the castle. When they reached the Great Hall, Zelda and Xavier parted ways with Avalon, leaving her to stride towards the library where she would meet up with the person she wanted to see the least. She had to keep telling herself that this was a good thing-- maybe this was her chance to learn about him, learn the things that he holds dear to him. It bothered her that she had made no progress in finding the Horcruxes. 

The problem was that he hated her almost as much as she hated him, if that was even remotely possible. She had to admit, she had not done a stellar job at getting on his good side. It seemed as though the chance for redemption was far beyond her, having secured a permanent spot on his list of peers he most hated. Perhaps she had to try to contain herself around him and gain his trust back, she thought to herself. Admittedly, she had never been too skilled at hiding her feelings. She was practical and pragmatic, honest, and open-- if she had a problem with someone, she rarely hid it. Whether or not that was a good thing was currently up for debate, but she found it becoming more and more of a hindrance as she realized how difficult she was making this process for herself.

She wondered many times why Snape had chosen her to do this task. Why had he grabbed her, and not someone else, and put the time turner around her neck? Why hadn’t he chosen someone kinder, or smarter, or braver? 

Deep down, she knew why she was chosen. As much as she tried to ignore it, she knew the glaring reason: she was the only one willing to justify murder for the safety of the others. That’s what she was-- a murderer. She was here to kill Tom, and that was all. She was an assassin. And that didn’t bother her, it was merely what had to be done. 

There was a difference between killing for pleasure and killing out of necessity. A stark difference. The magnitude of taking an innocent life and the magnitude of taking a guilty life were not equal sins to her-- one was justified while the other was not. And she never once doubted that her judgement was correct for believing Riddle deserved to die for his sins-- even if he hadn’t committed them yet. He was broken from the start, beyond repair, and could never earn the right to live when his life would bring forth the death of so many others. He was a parasite, and she couldn’t wait to rip his heart out. 

Her mind strayed to Luna-- thinking about how she would believe that even someone as deranged as Riddle could be saved. She would never kill him, she would try to salvage him. That was the belief that cost so many of their friends their lives. 

That was the belief she would never understand. 

She made her way into the library, shifting her focus into finding Riddle as she strode by groups of students, all of them shooting pointed glares at her as she walked by. She paid them no mind, walking forward with her head held high as she scanned the dimly lit library for her partner. When she finally found him, he was sitting in a back corner, a book already sprawled out on the desk before him as he flipped through the pages. 

Not a word was spoken as she pulled a chair out opposite to him and sat down, placing her things on the table and grabbing one of the many books he had stacked between them. 

“Chapter seven,” he said, without looking up.

“Excuse me?”

He glanced at her, an unimpressed expression overtaking his face. “The magic we are interested in is in chapter seven of the book you grabbed.”

She rolled her eyes and flipped the pages, starting to read about the process of how to morph an object into a creature. It was not simple magic, and she quickly whipped out her quill and notepad to jot down important concepts about the technique. The world washed away as she lost herself in the pages of the text before her, focusing on the task at hand and nothing else. She learned about the wand movement, the spell, the history, and the execution. It was quite fascinating, actually, and she was eager to get her hands on her wand and begin attempting the spell. It didn’t seem too difficult to her, though she had a horrible tendency to underestimate the difficulty of magic. 

It felt good to be learning. Far too much time had passed since she had been able to truly learn for the sake of knowledge, rather than for the sake of survival. She had grown accustomed to studying too many defensive spells, too many battle spells, too many dark spells. Anything that could have helped them in the war, or even after they had lost. There was no time to focus on learning for pleasure, or enlightenment, or betterment-- no, they only had enough energy to grow better at learning how to outrun, outfight, outdo the Death Eaters. 

This was different. This was learning to become a better wizard. And it was one of the things she missed most about her life prior to the war. A faint smile found her way onto her lips as she wrote down more notes, scribbling anything and everything she thought might be of use to them later. 

Riddle watched her out of the corner of his eyes. He noted that this might have been the first time she had been in his presence and not been glaring at him. If he didn’t know any better, he would almost say that she looked happy as she sat there, reading the pages before her. It was hard to believe that happiness was even an emotion Hendrix was capable of feeling. Her face was permanently twisted into either a scowl or a plastic smile, the latter of which was usually aimed either at a professor or at Lestrange. She was terrible at hiding her true emotions-- how Lestrange didn’t see through her was beyond him. 

But, for once, she seemed content. He supposed that was the Ravenclaw in her. Always eager to learn, finding comfort in acquiring knowledge. It didn’t bother him… at least while she was reading, she was too preoccupied to be a nuisance to him. He found that the only times when she wasn’t entirely unbearable were when she kept her mouth shut. 

She slid the book she was reading towards him, and he looked at her quizzically. “Read the second paragraph,” she said, keeping her voice low enough to not disrupt the people around them.

He pulled the book towards him, his eyes quickly scanning over the words. It was a passage about one of the most impressive acts of Transfiguration in modern wizarding history: a skilled wizard turning a Dragon’s egg into a full-grown Hungarian Horntail. He raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “This isn’t relevant to us. An egg is still a living thing.”

Her face shifted back into its familiar scowl as she slid the book back towards her. “It’s still interesting.”

“But irrelevant,” he said, returning his gaze to the book.

She rolled her eyes, leaning back into the book and continuing to read the passage. It was fascinating to her to see the extent to which this magic could be performed-- it didn’t matter much if it wasn’t helpful for the scope of their assignment. It was intriguing, nonetheless. She found it irritating how he needed everything to serve a purpose for him. He only cared about things, people, knowledge if it could benefit him in some way, shape, or form. It was hard to picture him ever reading, or learning, for nothing other than the sake of enjoyment, and she pitied him for that. 

She heard the sound of heels clattering on the floor, approaching the area where they were sitting. The sound bore into her head like a drill and she turned around to see Kyra, Rosalie, and two girls she didn’t recognize walking over and sitting at the table nearest to them.

They spoke in hushed voices, yet their words echoed through the room, bouncing off the walls and disrupting Avalon’s focus. Tom seemed to be just as aggravated by them as she was. He tried to keep his head down and continue reading, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of Kyra’s eyes glued to him. He didn’t bother to meet her gaze-- he felt no need to acknowledge her when they were in public. She had become a lot bolder in recent weeks, trying to catch his eye, sneaking subtle winks his way, or even being so brash as to run a hand up his arm in passing. He was growing increasingly irritated with her presence, her advances. 

She satisfied his physical needs-- that was it. She was nothing more, and nothing less. For her to attempt to get his attention anywhere outside the bedroom was pathetic on her end. It reeked of desperation.

“Get up,” he demanded, standing up and grabbing two of the books on the table.

Avalon looked up, raising a brow. “What?”

“I said get up,” he repeated. “Follow me.”

Without another word, he started walking out of the library, his stride long and steady as he made his way towards the exit. She had to scramble to put her things away, catching up with him just as he made it to the door. Before she left, she noticed a mixture of disappointment and jealousy wash across Kyra’s face as Tom walked past her, not paying any mind to her as she tried to catch his eye. Avalon couldn’t wrap her head around Kyra’s willingness to be unfaithful to her boyfriend for someone as low as Riddle-- she couldn’t comprehend it. 

He didn’t say a word as he led them through the castle. She grew tired of his silence and asked, “Where are we going?” No response. She repeated herself. No response. Her footsteps came to a sudden stop and she stood there, arms crossed, tapping her feet against the floor as she waited for an answer.

He kept walking for a little longer before he stopped, holding back the urge to roll his eyes as he answered her without turning to face her, “Somewhere quieter.”

“Did you get tired of being ogled?” she asked, a hint of a laugh in her tone. She truly never failed to be a bother. He sighed and kept walking, and she took his silence as an indication of his irritation, her need to pester him growing as she caught up to his stride. “Why keep her around if you don’t even like her? I mean, you really felt the need to choose a girl in a relationship when you can’t even acknowledge her in public?”

“Do my personal matters bother you that much?” he said, his voice stoic as he led them up a stairwell. 

“They don’t bother me, they just baffle me,” she shrugged. “Seems foolish.”

“Foolish is the girl who sleeps with the person she claimed to not be interested in that same night,” he said, referring to her relationship with Lestrange.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I never slept with him,” she reminded him before adding, “not in that way, at least.”

He hummed out a quiet ‘mhm’ as they walked down a corridor. She recognized where he was taking her-- this was the path to the Room of Requirement. A part of her was worried about what would happen if the two of them were alone in a hidden room that nobody could find them in. But, another part-- the majority of her-- knew that he wouldn’t hurt her. Not yet, at least. She felt as though she should fear him, but she didn’t. If prying into his memories hadn’t been enough of a reason to kill her, she doubted he was in any hurry to do anything too drastic to her. 

He stood before the stone wall and moments later, the entrance to the room appeared before them. His head nodded towards the door, motioning for her to go inside, and she did, with him following closely behind her. The entrance shut behind them, trapping them in the isolation of the secret room, their footsteps the only sound that resonated within its walls.

Inside was a setup much like the Slytherin Common Room. A dark couch, a center table, and several bookshelves aligning the edges of the room. She could tell from the way he walked in and dropped his belongings on the table that he had a tendency to study there often. His attention shifted towards her. “You never did tell me how you found this room.”

She shrugged. “I just did.”

“As far as I know, I’m the only person at Hogwarts that has found it thus far. And you expect me to believe a new student was able to just stumble upon it within days of arriving?”

“I hate to disappoint, Riddle, but you’re not nearly as special as you think you are,” she said, amusement in her tone.

“You don’t have a clue what I’m capable of,” he said, his smirk mirroring her voice.

She shrugged, reaching into her bag and tossing the coin at him. “Do those capabilities include being able to turn that coin into a living creature? Because that’s why we’re here.”

He caught it in mid-air, examining it in his hands before setting it on the table and sitting down, once again diving into one of the books before him. He wondered if he had been partnered with her as punishment for the way their damned professor had walked in on them quarreling earlier in the day. He didn’t put it past Dumbledore to have done this as a means of teaching them to tolerate each other. The man’s inability to mind his own business was one of the reasons why Tom had always harbored resentment towards him. He meddled in other people’s business far too much, sticking his nose in places where it didn’t belong. 

Avalon grabbed a book but walked over to the couch in the center of the room, plopping atop it and sprawling out as she read more about the process of bringing life into an inanimate object. The deeper she dove into studying, the quicker she realized that this would prove to be a much tougher task than she had anticipated. 

The room was eerily quiet. Her ears began ringing mere moments later as the silence deafened her. Anxiety rose in the pit of her stomach, an unrelenting fear of the quiet overtaking her nerves as she remembered all the times she’d had to hold her tongue in fear that a Death Eater would hear the sound of her breathing and uncover her hiding spot. 

Silence meant that there was something out there worth hiding from. 

She absentmindedly began tapping her foot against the arm of the couch, creating just enough noise to preoccupy her mind. It quelled her nerves, and the methodical sound reverberated comfortingly through her ears, making the perfect amount of sound to fill the empty space.

Riddle glanced up from his book, the sound of her foot thumping against the couch disrupting his focus. He tried to return to his studies, but the incessant noise pierced through his skull like daggers in his brain. “Do you mind?”

She looked up, puzzled. “What?”

He looked at her as though she had asked him to explain the obvious. “Are you incapable of sitting still?” Her expression grew wary, and he knew her short temper was going to once again make an appearance. He wondered if she was capable of not getting offended-- it seemed everything he said only struck a nerve.

“Are you incapable of focusing with a little noise?”

“Why should I have to?”

“And why should I stop?” she retorted. 

“For once in your life, Hendrix, can you not be so bloody defensive and just do what you’re told?”

“My most sincere apologies for not bowing at your feet like the others,” she snarled, shaking her head as she returned her attention back to her book. Only about a minute passed before she began tapping her foot against the couch again. He couldn’t even hide his irritation as he shut his book and pulled out his wand, pointing it at her and quietly casting a silencing charm around her before returning his focus to the book before him, smiling to himself at the quiet that enveloped the room.

She kept reading for a few minutes before she came across a passage about a spell that could turn any object into a plant. It wasn’t a creature, but she figured it was a good start. “Riddle, look at this.” A few moments passed and she waited for him to look towards her, but he didn’t. “Look,” she said again, a little louder. He didn’t even shift his gaze from his book. “For the love of Merlin, I found something that might be useful,” she yelled, being once more met with absolutely no response. She sat up on the couch, her body facing him as he scanned over the pages before him with a stoic look on his face. “Riddle?”

Nothing.

It was at that moment it occurred to her that he had cast a silencing charm around her. She stood up, storming over to him. He didn’t look up until she was standing right before him, one hand on her hip and the other pointing at him angrily as she shouted profanities that he couldn’t hear. A look of amusement found its way onto his face as he watched her silently scream at him as though she were a muted caricature, his lips twisting upwards into a satisfied smirk as she wiggled her finger at him accusingly, her mouth moving yet no sound coming out. 

“Come again?” he said, smiling as he could practically see the steam coming out of her ears as she fumed before him. A part of him almost wished he could hear what she was spouting out at him-- he could only imagine the choice words leaving her lips. 

She sent one final glare his way, raising her middle finger at him before storming over to the couch she had been sitting upon and grabbing her wand. She didn’t have an ounce of refinement within her entire body-- elegance was not a virtue she possessed. Her entire demeanor was crass and he couldn’t help but find it the slightest bit amusing to watch as she silently mumbled incorrigible words to herself before turning her attention to her wand. She muttered the spell to break the charm, her voice flooding his ears the moment his spell was lifted. “You insufferable, arrogant, son of a-”

“Language, Hendrix,” he said, cutting her off. 

“Fuck yourself,” she grumbled. He couldn’t help but smile, earning satisfaction in her irritation. Annoying as she may be, she was entertaining when angry. Her sailor’s mouth never failed to amuse him-- she cursed more than Avery, Nott, and Mulciber at a Quidditch match…combined.

“The sooner you learn to stay quiet, the sooner I can focus and figure this project out,” he said, flipping the page on the book calmly. 

“And what makes you think you’ll be the one to figure it out?”

“Professors tend to pair me with struggling students in hopes that I’ll be able to help them with their studies,” he said nonchalantly. “Consider yourself fortunate.”

That bothered her, and he could tell. “You are so full of yourself.”

“I’m merely aware of my own potential,” he shrugged.

“Potential,” she scoffed, thinking about his future. “Tell me, what do you think you’ll one day amount to?”

He sounded so sure of himself when he replied, “A part of history that nobody will ever forget.”

“I’m sure they’ll wish they could,” she replied, her fingers trembling at the memory of what he would one day become. 

His eyes fell to her hands, lingering there for a moment before meeting her gaze once more. He wasn’t sure what it was that made her so uniquely infuriating, but she managed to get under his skin in a way nobody else could. It wasn’t just the fact that she didn’t know when to shut her mouth, but also that she was near impossible to intimidate. As much as he tried, he didn’t know how to control her-- she had a mind of her own, and it was, unfortunately for him, quite a stubborn one. “And what of yourself? You say you want to be a Healer. Then what? Fade into the past with no substance to your name?”

“I’d rather be forgotten than remembered in notoriety.”

“And I’d rather be remembered for greatness,” he said dismissively. 

“Well, the first step towards that goal is to be great,” she said. “Being a prick won’t build you a legacy.”

“And being a traitor will?”

Her entire body tensed at that word. One word. Seven letters. Forever torn into her flesh as a constant reminder of the horrors she had faced. Even he knew that he had struck a nerve-- he just didn’t particularly care. The muscles in her jaw clenched, and her fists balled so tightly he could see a vein protruding on her hand from the strain she was exerting. “Don’t you dare bring that up,” she hissed, any sense of lightheartedness previously evident in her voice suddenly drained to oblivion.

He stood up, circling around the table and standing before her. “It’s strange, don’t you think? A brand new student appears out of nowhere, with a private sorting ceremony, covered in scars, more apt in Dark Magic than even some professors. I do wonder who you betrayed to end up that way,” he spat, feeding off her fury. He watched as her hazel eyes began to burn with the intensity of a thousand suns-- her rage pouring out of her once more as he pushed her further and further to her breaking point. The only thing he knew how to control for her was her anger-- it was exceedingly easy to infuriate her. He had never met anyone quite as temperamental as her. She harbored so much resentment within her that it made him wonder if she had always been this way, or if the pain she had endured turned her into this hardened version of the witch she perhaps once was.

“You have no fucking idea who I am, what I’ve seen, or what I’ve done,” she hissed, the air between them thin. The walls suddenly felt as though they were closing in-- she became painfully aware of how isolated they were. Nobody knew where they were studying. Hardly anyone knew of this room. Nobody could hear them. Nobody could see them. Nobody could find them. 

“I know you’ve evidently angered someone enough to deserve what came your way,” he said. “The only question is, what  _ did _ you do?”

“Say one more word and you’ll regret it,” she warned. He could tell she was nearing her breaking point, and he was determined to push her further. He would stop at nothing short of making her furious-- if he had learned anything, it was that the only way to make her talk was when she was angry.

“You preach of goodness… of morality. But your actions never match your own words,” he said. “Quite ironic, if you ask me.”

“You wanna talk about irony? Acting like a god, an almighty sorcerer… but cowering for your life in a telephone booth awaiting death by a muggle’s weapon. A bloody telephone booth.”

“As if you, yourself, are fearless,” he said, incapable of holding back the laugh that bellowed out. 

“I fear nothing,” she said, taking a bold step towards him. 

He watched her scrutinizingly, her eyes glaring up at him as she stood inches beneath him. With a slight twist of his wrist, he willed one of the books on the table behind them to slam shut, closing with a loud thud that made Avalon flinch harshly at the sound. “Fear nothing, do you?” he said smugly, once again looking at the way her fingers shook uncontrollably. “You really are a terrible liar.”

“At least my fears are rational,” she huffed. “What’s the point of fearing the inevitable? We all die eventually. And your time will come, just like the rest of us.”

“And what if it doesn’t?” he asked, a coy smirk written across his face.

“Then I’d end you myself, if I had to.”

“Someone like you could never take a life,” he said, smiling to himself as he saw her eyes narrow in on him. A part of him believed what he had said, but another part wondered if the girl before him was capable of such things. She was emotional, impulsive, and had lived through enough horrors to fuel a burning rage within her-- but was that enough to drive her to kill? He wasn’t sure, but a fragment of him hoped that it was. Perhaps she could be a valuable asset to him. 

He thought of the image he had seen in the Mirror of Erised-- with her bowing at his feet as a loyal follower. She was defiant: one of the only people he had met that didn’t succumb to his manipulation. Her power could prove to be useful to him, but only if he learned to control it. He had to learn how to control her.

She raised her wand beneath his chin, pressing it into his skin with brazen conviction in her voice as she spoke. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you truly believe that.”

He smiled down at her, his gaze unwavering. “You have to truly mean it for it to work.”

It was then her turn to smile. “I’ve meant it before, and they were far less infuriating than you are.”

She saw him raise his eyebrows in a moment of surprise before a feeling of contentment overtook him and he laughed. “Then by all means, do it.” There was not an ounce of fear in his stare as he challenged her. She pressed the wand deeper into his flesh, but he didn’t flinch at all. “Merrythought can’t stop you this time. Show me what you’re capable of.”

She knew that a boy who feared death would never be so bold-- no. These were the words of someone who already deemed himself to be invincible. These were the words of someone who knew that he could not die. “You’ve come a long way since that telephone booth. What changed?”

He flashed a cocky smirk, shrugging. “I know things now that I didn’t back then.”

“Like what?” she pressed, knowing she was inching closer and closer to hearing him admit that he had split his soul. She wanted to hear those words come out of his mouth. She wanted to hear him say that he had done it, that she was right, and put her one step closer to finding out where he was hiding those fragments of himself. The admission was so close she could practically see it about to drip off the tip of his tongue as he opened his mouth to speak. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he said, the coy grin still written on his lips as he gently moved her wand down. “I knew you didn’t have it in you.”

“You’ll find it is unwise to underestimate me,” she said, trying to hide her disappointment at the lack of admission before taking a step back and heading towards the couch once more. 

“I’ll admit I am surprised,” he said. “I didn’t pin you as one to play God.”

“They all got what they deserved,” she said defensively, her walls rising once more.

“Aren’t you the one who said we don’t have the power to judge who is innocent and who is not?” She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off. “You’re a walking contradiction, Hendrix. I don’t think you even realize how much of a hypocrite you truly are.”

“Some people are beyond redemption. I didn’t make that decision, they chose that path themselves,” she said, her growing impatience evident in the way she was focusing her attention anywhere other than on him.

“It’s curious how you find a way to rationalize your own actions, yet cast judgement on others for making the same choices.”

“I act out of necessity,” she said, her voice dripping with fury. 

“You’re not the only one,” he said. “Truthfully, I don’t much care what you have or have not done. I’m just growing tired of your own double standard.”

“There is right and there is wrong. If you’re too dense to see the difference, I am not at fault. I’m not in the mood to give you a lesson on morality.”

“That’s alright. I don’t think you’re equipped to teach it, anyway.”

She felt herself physically burning up inside as she listened to this boy, who she knew was going to become one of the biggest mass murderers in history, lecture her about what is right and wrong. How she found herself in a situation where Voldemort was making her seem like the evil one was entirely beyond her, but it was infuriating beyond belief to know that she couldn’t use his own sins against him without revealing the extent of her own knowledge to him. She wanted nothing more than to scream in his face and confess to him that she already knew he had committed the most atrocious sins, performed the most horrendous Dark Magic… that she knew his soul was marred beyond repair, already harboring the most wicked parts of humanity within him and hiding it behind a perfectly crafted facade that had everyone around him fooled.

But she couldn’t. Not yet, at least. 

And until she could, she knew she would have to keep her mouth shut and keep learning more and more about him until she could find the Horcruxes he had created and destroy them once and for all. And when she did, she would wipe that smug smirk off his face for the last time.

It was at this moment, however, that she began to understand how he amassed such a large following. She caught a glance at the way he was able to steer a conversation in exactly the direction he desired-- he was a master manipulator, and more dangerous than she thought he’d ever be at this age. He had a silver tongue, one that would one day prove to be one of his most powerful weapons. More so than his magic, more so than his strength, Voldemort’s power lied greatly behind the way that he was able to persuade people to do as he wished-- and if she didn’t know any better, she wondered if she, too, would fall victim to his coercion. 

She grabbed a book and her bag off the couch before standing up and walking towards the exit. “I’ve had enough of you for the day.”

“Excellent, see you tomorrow,” he said, holding back a laugh and turning back towards his original spot, nestled before the book he had been reading. 

She rolled her eyes, trying to suppress the urge to scoff as she shoved the door wide open. Before she left, she flicked her wrist, the book in front of him slamming shut in a swift motion, earning an annoyed huff from him as he lost his spot in his reading. She smiled to herself and walked out, the door closing behind her, leaving him staring at the exit with the slightest bit of intrigue in his eyes. 


	12. Chapter 12

Avalon and Tom soon fell into the habit of meeting nearly every night in the Room of Requirement, spending hours upon hours in its lonesome isolation with nothing but each other’s company and the presence of countless books to keep them busy. They studied the proper spells for several days, finally agreeing to transform the coin into a crow-- an animal big enough to earn a good mark, yet small enough to be an attainable goal. 

It had been about three days of them now solely focusing on practicing the spell, their wands permanently woven into their fingers as they recited the same incantation over and over again, to no avail. It was the first time Avalon had seen Riddle struggle with a spell, and she could see his frustration growing with each failed attempt to morph the coin into a living bird. After each time he cast the spell with no success, he would bury his hands into his black curls, tugging at the strands of hair as he returned his attention to a book to see if he had missed a key piece of information that could help him. Contrary to his usually put-together self, he looked quite disheveled in that moment, with his curls imperfectly scruffed from hours of agitated tugging and tussling. 

She was having no better luck with the task at hand, though, and the small golden coin merely stared at them, mocking their hindered ability to perfect the spell each time they cast it and nothing changed. 

It was a Saturday night, and Avalon’s mind was dozing away after spending the majority of her time on her day off from classes in the same small room, constantly bickering back and forth with Riddle as they cast the same failed spell on an endless loop for what seemed like forever. His determination was relentless-- he didn’t look like he had the intention of leaving any time soon, though she was nearing her own limit. He never gave up, she was beginning to learn. Nothing bothered him more than failure, and he was persistent in his quest to master the magic at hand. 

“How much longer do you plan on staying here?” she asked, wondering what hour it was. Her best guess was sometime after midnight, though she wasn’t too sure. Time blended together within the confinement of the Room of Requirement. He shrugged absentmindedly as he tried to cast the spell once more on the coin, with no success. “I’m going to go to bed,” she said, not particularly expecting an answer, and not surprised when she received none. Instead, she stood and walked to the exit, leaving without another word. 

Their study sessions always left her feeling drained. They argued from start to finish, and he had a terrible habit of speaking down to her at every chance he got-- which she gladly would reciprocate, though it tired her after days of endless back and forth. He had no capability for kindness, she had decided. The only times she saw glimpses of humanity within him were when he would get closer to making a breakthrough-- his eyes, usually so devoid of emotion, would light up at the prospect of a newfound grasp of knowledge, only to dull back down when the disappointment of his failure would set in. And, Merlin, did he hate to fail. 

When she stepped outside, the dark night sky shadowed the hallway through the moonlit windows, reminding her of the late hour. Rain was pouring in a thunderous storm, the sky’s tears crashing down to the earth in violent drops while the song of the wind howled outside as a melancholy symphony. She found herself walking towards a window and glancing out at the expansive outdoors, a feeling of bitter nostalgia overcoming her as she thought about how that same night sky had been ablaze with a crumbling shield of defensive spells just hours before Voldemort and his followers had come and slaughtered so many people right inside these very walls. 

The ghosts of their memories danced through her mind and plagued her vision everywhere she looked. She found it hard to walk where they walked without thinking of the losses she had endured. Images of their lifeless bodies littered across the floor swam before her eyes as incessant reminders of the carnage of the war she had lived through. 

She couldn’t take her eyes off of the hallway before her. It occurred to her that this was where she had seen Ron last-- they had run into each other after the chaos that ensued after Harry’s body was paraded through the crowds. The redhead had been a mess, completely hysterical after losing his older brother and his best friend on the same day, and yet she hadn’t had time to comfort him-- all she had done was mouth ‘ _ It’ll be okay _ ’ to him before finding herself back in the thick of battle, fighting off the army of Death Eaters that had outnumbered them that day. 

She hadn’t seen Ron again after that. If she had known that would be the last time she’d see him maybe she would have spent a little longer with him, or told him how much their friendship meant to her, or at least hugged him. She never did find out what happened to him-- his name was never among those listed as dead, but nobody that she spoke to had heard from him. He had become another one of the disappeared wizards. One among thousands of those that they didn’t know were dead or alive. 

She wanted to believe he was alive, but only if he was hiding in a safehouse as she had been. It pained her to think that he might have been put through the same inhumane torture at the hands of the Death Eaters that she and Hermione had already endured. To her, that may be a fate worse than even death, itself.

But, no. She didn’t want to think that way. None of that mattered. Because she was going to save them all. Save the fallen, save the lost, save the hurt, and save the living. She was going to end their misery before it began by putting a stop to the wizard responsible for all of their pain. 

She just had to figure out how.

Her feet dragged forward, carrying her through the walls of the castle. She didn’t feel like taking her usual route, too many haunting memories were sneering at her, so she chose to walk a different path that didn’t take her through the main halls. Her footsteps were so quiet that they were almost nonexistent-- too many months of fearing for her life and sneaking under the noses’ of Death Eaters trained her into muffling the sound of her own steps out of pure habit. What little noise she did make was drowned out by the battering of the rain against the castle’s exterior. 

She turned a corner and walked through an abandoned corridor, staring out at the dark sky as she passed by window after window. It wasn’t until a few moments later when she saw a familiar head of blond hair just barely peeking out from behind a pillar. She wasn’t sure if it was him at first, but as she walked closer, it was undoubtedly Orion, so she playfully called out, “I keep running into you in the dead of night.”

He whipped around, startled, immediately taking a step back and exposing a petite girl that had been wrapped in his arms. Avalon’s eyes widened when she noticed the girl, followed by the realization that Orion’s face was flushed a soft rosy pink, his lips terribly swollen, and his hair tousled into a disheveled mess at the hands of the strawberry blond girl before him. 

Avalon recognized the girl: she was a sixth year Hufflepuff-- Clara Bell. They shared Herbology together, and the Professor had made it more than clear that Bell was the best student he had ever had in the subject. Her doe-like brown eyes were wide as she looked between Orion and Avalon, her fingers still wrapped in her lover’s. 

Orion turned to Clara and hushedly whispered something to her before she quickly scampered away, keeping her head low and avoiding Avalon’s gaze as she left the two of them alone in the corridor. Avalon looked at Avery, confused. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was interrupting.” He looked flustered: a mixture of panicked and agitated as he walked towards her, running his hands through his hair anxiously. “So Bell is your girlfriend?”

“What are you doing out so late?” he asked, his voice much more bothered than usual.

“I was just studying with Riddle-”

“Is Riddle here, too?” he said, quickly whipping his head around to check to see if anyone else was watching. 

“No, I mean-”

He put his hands firmly on her shoulders, forcing her to look up at him as he spoke. “You cannot tell anyone about Clara, okay?”

“You’re acting crazy-”

“No, Avalon, listen to me. You cannot tell anyone about her.”

She shook him off of her, growing weary of his attitude. “I already told you before that I wouldn’t. But, I don’t see why it’s such a big deal,” she said, shaking her head. 

“It  _ is _ , okay?” he said, his brows furrowed into a deep frown. “If the boys find out, it won’t be long until the whole school does, too, and if word gets to my parents they will never even look my way again.”

“All for dating a Hufflepuff?” she asked, still not grasping his dilemma. 

“It’s not because she’s a bloody Hufflepuff, Avalon,” he said, his weary eyes brimming with frustrated tears as he awaited her response. 

She began to piece it all together, and the realization hit her in a wave of understanding. Her voice was quiet, but free of judgement, when she spoke again. “Is she muggle-born?”

Her soft tone was a surprise to him, though his stomach was still twisted into knots as he buried his head into his hands, rubbing his temples as he grumbled. “I’m begging you to, please, just not say a thing.”

She sighed and gently placed a hand on his arm, giving him a reassuring squeeze as she awaited his gaze to finally find hers again. “Orion, I swear to you that I will never tell a soul.” A small look of relief washed over his features and she spoke once more. “But I also want you to know that I’d never view you as any different for who you love, you know that, right?” His body was stiff and he kept trying to avoid her stare. A few stray tears fell down his cheeks and it broke her heart to watch him break apart in front of her over something like this. She gently put her thumb to his cheek and wiped the tears away. “It’s not a bad thing at all.”

“My father will kill me if he finds out,” he said, struggling to keep his voice level as he bit his lip. “I’d be disowned.”

“It’s going to be okay,” she insisted, but he shook his head again. His fists were clenched so tightly that she had to unravel his fists, the same way he did for her, to make sure he eased up his own grip. “They’re fools, and so is anybody that shares their views.” She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and he offered up a soft smile. “We don’t choose who we love.”

“I do,” he said, wiping a stray tear off his own cheek before lightly laughing, an ounce of his usual self returning as he spoke. “Love her, I mean.”

She grinned. “I can tell. She seems lovely, from what I’ve seen of her in Herbology. She’s brilliant.”

“She is,” he agreed, his face lighting up as he thought about her. “She wants to be an Herbologist one day and I know she’ll be the best there ever was.”

Avalon moved to the nearest windowsill and perched atop it, patting the area beside her before he came and sat by her side. “How did you two meet?”

“One of the boys on the team has been dating her roommate for years now and introduced us at a gathering. And, I mean, I’ve always known about her. I’ve seen her in the halls and thought, Merlin, she’s a beauty. But when we spoke for the first time, I just…” he sighed, staring up at the ceiling with an entranced look on his features. “...I swear to you, I fell in love with her right then and there.” He paused for a moment before looking at her curiously. “Have you ever been in love?”

“I’ve loved many people,” she said, thinking of her friends, “but I have never been in love.”

“I hadn’t either, until her,” he sighed. “I thought that I had been. Guess I’ve always been a bit of a hopeless romantic,” he laughed. “But with her it’s different. She’s the girl I’ll marry, I know it. I’m sure of it. And when the day comes, I suppose I will have to tell my parents and face the consequences, but I won’t care because she’s worth it,” he said confidently, before pausing and adding, “I’m just not ready for that quite yet. One day, though.”

“If you love her, I’m sure she’s wonderful,” she said. “I’d love to get to know her better.”

His face lit up with a bright grin. “Perhaps the three of us can do something together sometime. I reckon she’d love that, too. She doesn’t get to spend time with my friends and I know it would make her happy.”

“That sounds lovely,” she replied, and she meant it. It made her upset that he felt he couldn’t tell anyone in his life about the girl that he loved. She wished she could tell him that one day, blood-status wouldn’t matter as much as it did in his time and that he could love whoever he wanted openly-- but she couldn’t right now. “Do you really think your friends and family wouldn’t accept her even if they met her?”

“My parents wouldn’t even get to know her if they knew of her lineage,” he sighed. 

“And the other boys?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t want to risk it, though. I know what it’s like growing up in the environments that they’re used to. Their families are all like mine, if not worse.”

“And yet you don’t share your family’s values,” she pointed out.

“I did, though, for a long time,” he admitted with a remorseful look on his face. “Longer than I should have. It’s difficult to break free of the prejudices that have been bestowed upon you your entire life. I hope they all learn, one day, that blood-status means nothing. I’d love to have the boys at my wedding one day,” he said, a hint of sadness once again pricking his eyes.

“I hope you’re right,” she said, though she didn’t think she could ever imagine someone like Riddle at a wedding like that. For Avery’s sake, she hoped the others would. 

He smiled at her before he spoke. “Thank you. For everything.”

“No need to thank me. What are friends for?”

“No, I mean it. I appreciate you a lot. I’m glad you’ve come to Hogwarts,” he said before glancing down the hallway. “Do you mind if I go find Clara? I should probably tell her that our secret lives to see another day,” he said with a laugh. 

“Go find your girl,” she grinned, motioning for him to go. 

“You truly are the best,” he said, ruffling her hair and earning an annoyed huff from her before he bolted off in the direction his girlfriend had gone, leaving Avalon once again in the comfort of her own isolation. She lingered there for a few more moments, replaying their conversation in her head before standing up and walking back to her dorm. 

When she approached the door leading to her and Zelda’s room, she was surprised to find light seeping out from the bottom of the closed door. Her hands shoved against the frame, opening the entrance to find Zelda sitting atop her bed, her wand pointed at the goblet that Dumbledore had given her and Xavier for their project.

“You’re still up?” she asked her roommate. 

“Yeah,” Zelda replied hastily before motioning for her to walk over. “Look at this, though.” Avalon walked over to her bedside and watched as Zelda muttered an incantation and flicked her wand towards the goblet, a look of elation overtaking her lips as a fox tail sprouted off it, the furry addition flicking from side to side. 

“You’ve made progress!” Avalon noted. “Impressive.”

“It’s a start,” Zelda grinned before waving her wand again and having the tail disappear. “I was working on it all day and night.”

“No Xavier?”

She rolled her eyes. “We’ve come to the mutual agreement that it’s best if I focus on the assignment and he… does whatever it is that he does.”

“Z, you can’t let him take advantage of your hard work like that,” she pointed out.

“Trust me, after spending the last couple of days with him, I much prefer it this way,” she shrugged. “I was starting to get drunk just off the smell of wine that followed him around.” Avalon laughed and walked to her dresser, changing into more comfortable clothes as Zelda continued speaking. “Have you and Riddle made any progress, yet?”

“None, whatsoever,” she sighed. “All we’ve managed to do is wear out our own voices from how much we shout at one another.”

“I can’t believe you’ve managed to get so under his skin,” Zelda mused. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Riddle lose his temper before.”

“He’s horrible,” she groaned, pulling a sweater over her head before climbing into her bed and sprawling out over the covers. “And he only gets worse the longer we go without making progress.”

“It is surprising that neither of you has managed to get the spell to work yet. Usually he finishes his assignments quite early,” Zelda said. “I once had to work with him on a Potions project in Year Three. We had a month to work on it and he finished it the second day without even telling me.”

“I can’t tell you how badly I want to master this spell before he does,” Avalon grumbled, thinking about the look on his face if she were to be the one to figure out the project and not him. She reckoned he would lose his mind if he wasn’t the one to complete the task-- especially after spending night after night in the Room long after she had left.

“Just keep practicing, I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it, soon,” Zelda offered. 

“I just can’t help but think there’s something I’m still missing.”

Zelda thought for a moment before speaking. “Do you have the motion down?”

“It’s just a simple flick, correct?” Avalon asked, mimicking the movement and earning a nod from her roommate. “I don’t understand why it isn’t working. I just have to visualize the bloody coin turning into an animal, right? Surely, that can’t be so difficult.”

“Well, technically, there’s more to it than that,” Zelda said. “You have to visualize the creature, yes, but you’re also creating life from nothing. To do that, you have to understand the gravity of life, itself.”

Avalon’s ears perked up and she tilted her head, listening more intently. “What do you mean?”

“I read it in one of the books I found in the library. In order for spells like this to work, the caster has to truly have a grasp on the sheer magnitude of how sacred life is. You have to understand the wonder of life and how each life created is irreplaceable in its own way.”

Well, Avalon thought to herself, suddenly it made sense why Riddle was struggling so hard with the spell. That boy would never appreciate the first thing about life. It became increasingly evident to her that she truly would be the one that would have to figure out the project on her own.

Avalon thought about her friends and loved ones… all the people she had lost. She felt the weight of their lost presence every single day. Surely nobody understood the weight of life more than her, she thought to herself. 

But, a nagging part of her mind wandered to the thought of the four lives she had taken without a moment of hesitation. She quickly shook that thought away, though. Those people had gotten what they deserved and no matter what Riddle and his infuriating moral lectures may want her to believe, she knew that what she had done had not been wrong. 

“I already understand that,” she insisted, trying to convince herself almost as much as Zelda.

Her roommate only shrugged. “Then perhaps just keep practicing. I’m sure you’ll get it soon.”

Avalon agreed and crawled underneath her covers, wrapping herself up in their warmth as she chatted a little longer with Zelda about her day. When the time finally came for them to go to sleep, she kept telling herself that tomorrow would be the day she made real progress on the assignment. 

And she believed that… mostly.


	13. Chapter 13

The next few days blew by in a flurry. Avalon had other work to catch up on, so she didn’t see Riddle for a while, choosing to instead finish her other assignments to avoid falling behind in her other classes. She ate lunch with Xavier once, but their time together was cut short due to the fact that he had to leave and go to a detention that he’d earned for falling asleep in his Divinations class. How the boy managed to pass his classes was beyond her. 

Avalon and Zelda sat beside one another, counting down the minutes before their Herbology class ended. Anytime Avalon came to this class, she remembered how Xavier had brought her to this greenhouse on the first night they had truly spent time with each other. The mandrakes in the corner made her laugh a bit to herself whenever she thought about how some of them were nothing more than vessels for him to hide his alcohol in plain sight. She had to give him credit where credit was due-- the boy was creative.

Throughout class, Avalon had been glancing over at Clara Bell who was proudly sitting in front of the Professor, a soft smile permanently painted onto her rosy lips as she listened to every last word of the lecture with an air of enthusiasm that nobody else in the class could come close to. 

Avalon caught the girl’s eyes once, and Clara offered her a soft smile that Avalon quickly returned before turning to Zelda and whispering, “What do you know about Clara Bell?”

Zelda’s eyes floated towards the strawberry blond before she replied, “Sweetest soul you’ll ever meet. I don’t think she could hurt a fly if her life depended on it. Why?”

“Just curious,” she replied absentmindedly. Class ended moments later and she turned to her roommate and said, “Mind if I catch up with you later? I just gotta take care of something really quickly.”

Zelda nodded and picked up her belongings. “I’ll see you later. Still up for having lunch?”

“Yeah, of course,” Avalon replied before waving to her friend and watching as Zelda left the class with another cluster of Ravenclaws. She waited until the room was nearly empty before approaching the group of Hufflepuffs lingering behind. Her eyes locked with Clara’s and she watched as the girl told her friends that she would meet up with them later and waved goodbye to them, staying behind to be left with Avalon. 

“Hello,” Clara said, her smile evident even in the soft tone of her words. Her voice was light and dreamy-- filled with a pleasant kindness that was undeniably present as she took a step forward and held her books to her chest. Her eyes held no signs of disdain, fear, or even judgement, which was a rarity towards Avalon nowadays. 

“Hey,” Avalon replied, mirroring her smile. “I’m Avalon. I thought it might be nice to finally meet you for real.”

“Clara,” she said. “It’s a pleasure. I’ve heard so many lovely things about you from Orion.”

“Likewise.” Avalon began walking to the exit of the greenhouse, Clara following her in suit. She held the door open for the soft-spoken girl, and they both left the class together, walking along the grounds as they made their way towards the main corridors of the castle. “I’m sorry for interrupting the two of you the other night,” she laughed, trying to hide her embarrassment. 

“It’s alright. Orion told me what you said after. Thank you for talking to him-- I know that all of this can be quite overwhelming for him at times and he really doesn’t have anyone to talk to about it,” she said, a hint of sorrow in her eyes. “I’m just glad he has you to confide in.”

“I’m sorry that you aren’t able to have a traditional relationship,” Avalon said. “It’s a pity so many people are so horribly close-minded. They’re all wrong, you know.”

“I don’t much mind what they think. I’m used to it, I don’t let it bother me anymore. If only I could take some of the weight off of his shoulders though.” She spoke of him with the same love in her voice that he had when he spoke of her. She was gentle, almost more so than Orion, and they matched each other in the way one expects people made with two fragments of the same soul would act. “Orion told me that you and Xavier have hit it off,” Clara said, her eyes widening when Avalon laughed. “I’m sorry if that was supposed to be a secret-- he’s absolutely dreadful at keeping his mouth shut.”

“No, no, it’s fine. Lestrange and I are just friends, though.” She could tell Clara already knew too much to believe her, so she added, “I mean, perhaps a little more than friends, but nowhere near as serious as you and Avery.”

“I think you two could be lovely together,” she said as they entered the main corridor of Hogwarts. “I don’t know him too well, but he seems charming and kind.”

“Kind may not be the first word that comes to my mind.”.

“I feel as though everyone is kind deep down. It just takes a little longer to see it for some.”

“You and Orion truly are perfect for one another,” Avalon said, earning a light-hearted giggle from Bell. And she meant that-- she didn’t doubt for a moment the way that Avery said he had fallen for Bell the moment they first spoke. There was an undeniable connection between them. 

Avalon didn’t particularly believe that she would ever fall in love. She loved many people, with the intensity of her entire raging heart, but she didn’t know if she was capable of ever falling  _ in _ love with someone. Not after everything she had seen. 

Not after seeing Molly Weasley pace back and forth in the safehouse for months on end, holding the radio close to her chest as she listened to the names of the fallen, praying that Arthur’s name wasn’t one of them. Not after crying with Cho, assuring her things would be okay after Cedric was killed, even though they both knew that was a lie. Not after hearing the scream Ginny let out when she saw Harry’s body crumple to the ground before her, Voldemort’s laughter ringing in the air behind them.

She didn’t think her heart could handle the burdens that came with love-- she had lost too much already. The thought of losing more was enough to keep her far away from the thought of falling for anyone. Love was a luxury reserved for those with hearts strong enough to handle heartbreak. Unfortunately, hers could no longer bear that burden. 

Clara heard her name called by someone behind them and whipped around to see a couple of Hufflepuffs motioning for her to join them. She opened her mouth with a sincerely apologetic look strewn across her face and Avalon quickly cut her off. “Don’t worry, go on. It was so nice to finally talk to you. And, hey, I know it must be tough not really being able to talk to anyone about your relationship. If you ever need anyone, you know how to find me, okay?”

“I see why Orion values your friendship so much,” Clara said with a smile. “I’ll see you around, Avalon.” She waved before heading off and joining her fellow housemates, leaving Avalon alone in a hallway filled with a hundred voices. She could distinguish dozens of conversations as students piled through the castle to make their classes. 

Some were discussing Quidditch, others classes, and some just spreading the latest gossip. She couldn’t wait until the day she could return to her own time-- after having taken care of her task at hand-- and being able to see Hogwarts return to the home she knew it as. Seeing so many students engaged in cheerful conversation with their peers made her heart ache for her own friends, missing their company more than anything. Still, she was grateful for the people she had met while in this time. Without Zelda and Orion, she felt she’d be a lot more lost than she was. They made things tolerable, given the circumstance. While she knew that the day would come eventually, she didn’t think leaving them in this time would be an easy task. She’d miss their presence when she finally went home. She supposed she would have to cross that bridge when she got there.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Riddle enter the hallway, Rosier and Lestrange close by his side. The way girls would stop in the middle of their conversations to watch as they walked by never failed to amuse her. 

Lestrange’s eyes landed on her from across the hall and his face lit up as he sped up his pace and ran over, spinning her around as soon as he reached her. “Hello, darling.” 

Rosier and Riddle strode over shortly after. “Hello, boys,” Avalon said, smiling at Xavier and Adonis while ignoring Tom’s cold stare. 

“Morning, Hendrix,” Rosier said, his voice cool and collected as usual. She hadn’t spent too much time with Adonis, though he was evidently Xavier’s closest friend. They seemed to be near opposites-- with Xavier’s outspoken and rather daring persona being perfectly balanced by Adonis and his quiet and composed nature. 

“Are you prepared to work after class today?” Riddle asked her, wasting no time on a greeting.

“Today?” she asked. “We have Slug Club tonight.”

“We have nearly two hours between the end of classes and the start of dinner,” he said, earning an annoyed huff from her. 

“Can one of you hurry up and figure out that bloody project?” Xavier said. “I’m growing tired of you stealing my girl away,” he joked to Riddle. 

“Your girl?” Avalon said, raising her eyebrow as he laughed. 

“Only if you’ll have me,” he replied. “Tell me you’ll be mine.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” she said, playfully. He furrowed his eyebrows before sucking in a deep breath and pouting, crossing his arms and tapping his feet impatiently as he awaited a more favored answer. “Unbelievable,” she muttered, rolling her eyes but failing to suppress her own laughter before she perched up on her toes and planted a soft kiss on the tip of his nose. Evidently, that was enough to satisfy him and he playfully let out the breath he had been holding in, softly blowing into her face, making her hair gently ruffle back as she giggled. 

“If you two are quite finished, I’ll be going to class now,” Riddle said.

“Same goes for me,” said Adonis. “Lestrange, you coming?”

“I’ll catch up with you,” Xavier said, giving a curt nod to the boys before they walked off, leaving Avalon alone with him. “I barely see you now, you know?”

“Perhaps if you weren’t always in detention, you’d have more time to see me,” she said, earning an exasperated gasp from him.

“No, no, you don’t get to twist this one on me, love. You’re always busy with Riddle.”

“In the same way you should be busy helping Zelda with your own assignment?” 

He laughed. “In my defense, she’s the one who told me she’d rather do it alone. I tried to help.”

“By offering her firewhiskey?”

“Hey now, it helps with the creative process,” he shrugged, a cheeky grin plastered onto his lips. “Will I see you this weekend, at least?”

“This weekend? Is something happening?”

“It’s the first Hogsmeade trip of the year,” he said. 

She felt a flush of excitement wash over her at the thought of being able to visit Hogsmeade, but she made sure not to let on that she knew too much about the town for the sake of keeping her cover as a transfer. “What is that?”

“It’s a town just a little way from the castle. There’s pubs, shops, pubs, restaurants… and did I mention the pubs?”

“As if you can’t get drunk here,” she said sarcastically.

“I can, but I like to spice up my locations. Keep things interesting,” he grinned. “And, it means I’d get to spend the day with you.”

“Who said I’d be going with you?”

“I did, just now. Don’t make me into a liar, darling, it’s not a good look for me,” he said as he took her hand into his, lacing their fingers together. “I promise you I’ll show you a good time.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” she smiled. 

“Does that mean you’ll come?”

“It means you haven’t left me too much of a choice,” she laughed, earning a wide smile in response. 

“You always have a choice, love. You merely chose the right option,” he said with a wink, raising her hand to his lips and pressing a soft kiss on her skin before turning around and walking off. “I’ll see you in the afternoon-- try not to miss me too much, alright?”

“However will I survive?” she laughed before scurrying off to her next class. 

Seconds became hours as the rest of the day progressed slowly but surely, until Avalon was packing up her belongings and getting ready to go to the Room of Requirement. Zelda looked over at her and asked, “Do you think you’ll be back late again tonight?”

“It depends how long dinner lasts. I’m hoping to be in bed by a reasonable hour this time,” she replied, throwing her school bag over her shoulder. “I’m sorry I keep coming back at such odd hours. I’ll do my best to enter quietly.”

“Oh, it’s alright. I don’t anticipate being in bed when you get back. I have loads of work I need to get done this week. I might still be in the library when you get back,” Zelda shrugged. “Have fun, okay? I’ll see you later,” she said with a smile before running off to pester Xavier about their project. She watched as her roommate stormed up to Lestrange and smacked him across the arm, earning a confused grunt from him as she scolded him for being no help on their assignment. Avalon heard him insist it was her own fault for not letting him help her, and laughed to herself as the two of them quarreled back and forth in the corner of the class. 

Avalon looked around, but Riddle was already gone. She assumed he had gone to the Room of Requirement already-- he rarely, if ever, waited for her when they went to the Room together. They typically met there. For the most part, she would go whenever she wanted and he would already be waiting there. It seemed as though he did all his studying within those walls, so it was hard to find a time when he wasn’t there. She sometimes wondered if he ever even left at all. 

She made her way out of the classroom, walking through the bustling corridors until she made her way into the isolated hallway that housed the Room of Requirement. As the entrance appeared before her, she looked around once to make sure nobody had followed her and then pushed the door open, finding herself inside the familiar walls of their usual study spot. It always looked the same, just the couch, table, bookshelves, and a fireplace not too far off. She had begun to notice that Riddle enjoyed standing before the flames when he was trying to think-- maybe that was why he always smelled vaguely of smoke. 

Her eyes scanned the room, but he was not inside. Odd, she thought to herself, though she decided it was best to just sit down and begin working while she waited on his arrival. The table became home to her belongings as she unpacked her notes, placed the coin on the table, and whipped out her wand before staring at the small object before her. 

She kept thinking about what Zelda had told her-- in order to truly master the transfiguration, the caster must fully grasp the magnitude of the sanctity of life. 

_ Should be easy enough _ , she thought. Her focus zoned in on everything-- on everyone-- that helped her understand the weight of life. She thought about Harry, about Fred, about Tonks, about Lupin, about Cedric… about every person that had lost their lives to this damned war. She thought about the cries that echoed through the castle as they cleared the bodies of the fallen. She thought about the tears that fell off their cheeks as they grieved the lost. She thought about the emptiness that had plagued her heart every single second of every single day since that god-forsaken nightmare of a battle. 

Life was precious. She knew that. She knew how it hurt to lose those around you, and she knew all too well about how irreplaceable their presence was. If she didn’t know, perhaps her heart would finally expel the dull ache that had found such an unwelcome home within her for so long. Her fingers had begun to tremble, though she didn’t pay it much mind as she focused on the coin before her and spoke the spell clearly and confidently, thinking about all those who had taught her so much about the meaning, the weight, the worth of life, and the pain of its absence.

But that bloody golden coin just stared back at her, mocking her as it remained exactly how it had been without even the slightest hint of a change. It angered her more than she could express. Her fingers grasped the coin and she threw it at the wall, letting out an aggravated cry as it bounced off the stone and fell to the ground with an echo that rang through the room like a chorus of hysterical ridicule. 

She tugged at her hair in a fit of annoyance, tightly shutting her eyes closed and taking in a deep breath to calm her nerves as she tried contemplating what she could possibly be doing wrong. The lack of progress she had made thus far had been something out of the ordinary for her-- she was not used to struggling this much on mastery of spells. Even the toughest magic typically didn’t take very long for her to learn. Her natural aptitude mixed with the immediate necessity of her learning had always allowed her to pick up new skills quickly-- so why was this bloody spell so much different?

She thought about Riddle, growing more and more agitated with every passing moment. Her only consolation was that Riddle was struggling just as much as she was. She didn’t want to think about what she would do if he learned the spell before she did-- the thought annoyed her. But, she was sure that it wouldn’t happen. He was much too arrogant to be able to pull off this kind of magic. Dark Magic came easy to him but anything that required even an ounce of empathy… she knew he didn’t have it in him. 

Someone like Tom was not capable of empathy, of compassion, of decency. He was only a vessel for hatred, pain, and an insatiable hunger for strength and control. A part of her wondered if he, at this point in his life, would even care if she told him about the people that would lose their lives to his incessant strive for power-- she doubted it. In fact, she thought he would be proud of the monster he would one day become. 

It occurred to her that maybe that monster didn’t appear over time, but had rather been living inside him all along. Tom Riddle was Voldemort and Voldemort was Tom Riddle. They were one and the same.

And she hated them both with a burning intensity. 

She thought back to the things that she had seen in his memories. Had he always been this way, or had his cruel life broken him beyond repair? She found it hard to imagine him ever being anything more than an empty shell of a human, but a tiny voice in the back of her head wondered if perhaps he could have been saved if he had been dealt a different hand in life. 

Visions of her aunt swarmed her mind, a warm feeling of comfort washing over her as she remembered the love that had raised her. She didn’t remember her parents, but her aunt had made sure to remind her of their unrelenting love for her since she was a baby and she had always felt as though they were watching over her, somewhere, somehow. She looked up to the ceiling and felt a sad smile find its way to her lips. She hoped the people she loved were watching over her now, too. It made her feel less alone when she told herself they never left her side. 

She wondered if Riddle had anyone that he genuinely cared about. Or, if anyone cared about him. 

It didn’t matter much, she supposed. The damage was done. But, a little part of her mind lingered on the possibility of a different version of Tom Riddle had he only been surrounded by the same love she had felt growing up. 

She walked over to the coin, begrudgingly picking it up before slumping towards the couch and sitting down, placing the coin on the table beside her and returning to what she felt comfortable with: flipping through books to see if there was something, anything, that she had missed. Time ticked by slowly-- so slowly that she couldn’t focus on the books before her and instead became increasingly aware of how eerily lonesome the room was. 

It was silent. Unnervingly so. Her fingers were shaking and she kept glancing over at the door to see if Riddle would step in, but he never did. The anticipation was driving her mad and the deafening quiet was doing nothing to help her racing nerves. 

She closed her eyes, focusing her energy on channeling the Room for the one thing she desperately craved in that moment. 

Music. 

When her eyes fluttered back, letting the light invade her senses once more, she smiled to herself as she noticed the record player that had appeared on the table beside the couch, the golden horn catching a glint of light and reflecting across the furthest wall. Beside it lay an abundance of her favorite muggle records: from Bowie, to Elton John, the Beatles, Duran Duran, and the Rolling Stones among many more. 

She smiled to herself, a glimmer of comfort finding peace in her heart as she thought back to the late nights spent dancing in the Burrow with Hermione and Ginny to these same songs. Hermione had introduced them to a lot of muggle-music and Avalon had always preferred it to anything produced in the wizarding world-- plus, seeing Hermione happy that her friends liked her music suggestions always made her smile, so Avalon went along with it. 

After the war, Avalon played a lot of these songs for Hermione when they were at the safehouse. She had hoped that maybe listening to them would help revive parts of her mind, or maybe spark happy thoughts behind those empty eyes. The witch never showed any sign of recognizing the songs, but one time Avalon swore she saw the corner of Hermione’s mouth twitch up, and that alone was enough to convince her to keep trying. 

Her fingers danced along the pile of records as she scanned through the titles, finally deciding on the Rolling Stones and placing the record onto the machine, a satisfied smile finding its way onto her lips as the familiar songs began to reverberate through the walls. 

The room felt a lot less isolating when the music was echoing throughout. The drums, guitar, and vocals all blended together into a comforting song of familiarity, bringing life back into the empty walls. She sat back down on the couch and began scanning through the books again, now able to focus without the nagging silence ringing through her ears. She lost herself within the pages, immersing herself in the abundance of knowledge that lingered within those words as she quietly hummed along to the song. 

She didn’t hear the door open over the sound of the rock music, and tapped her foot to the beat, happily drumming her fingers along the top of her book to the rhythm. For once, she felt oddly at peace. If she didn’t know any better, she almost felt like she was back in her own time-- listening to music and studying to finish up an assignment. 

“Is this supposed to be music?”

Her head whipped around to see Tom walking towards his usual spot at the table, a look of disgust written across his face. He had already changed into dress pants and a button-down black shirt, clearly ready for dinner later in the evening. 

“You’ve changed already?” she asked, ignoring his comment about her music.

“Did you forget we’re going straight to dinner?” 

“No. I thought I’d have time to go back to my room beforehand.”

He looked her up and down expressionlessly before stating, rather matter-of-factly, “Well, you can’t go dressed like that.” She rolled her eyes and let out a grunt of annoyance before glancing over at a nearby wall and focusing her energy on having the Room fulfill her current requirement. Tom watched with a hint of amusement on his lips as a door began to form out of the bricks on the wall. He strode over and opened it, revealing a dress and shoes neatly hung inside. “A room that grants you anything your heart desires, and you choose to use it as a personal closet?”

“It’s called being resourceful,” she shrugged, returning back to her book. 

He closed the closet door again and walked towards her, stopping before the record player. “You listen to muggle music.”

“I listen to good music,” she corrected him. “You should give it a try sometime.”

“This sounds like nails on a chalkboard,” he said. 

“It’s not my fault you lack taste, Riddle,” she replied. 

“It’s quite literally pure noise,” he said, shaking his head before he took the needle off and removed the record, filling the room with quiet again. 

“Hey,” she complained, setting her book down and storming over, grabbing it out of his hands defensively. “Do you always have to be such a killjoy? I swear, you’re practically allergic to any and all things even remotely fun.”

He raised an eyebrow before rolling his eyes and walking back over to his table, sitting down as he began to organize the books before him to find what he was looking for. She took the distance as a chance to put a different record on, this time settling for Bowie. 

Barely one second of the song had begun to play when she heard him groan. “Hendrix, this is awful. Turn it off.”

“Deal with it,” she retorted. He took in a deep breath, trying to calm himself down before he said anything else. Merlin, she truly was impossible to get along with. 

“Must you play music?”

“I don’t like the quiet,” she replied shortly. He could tell from the stubborn tone she was using that arguing with her would be fruitless. 

“At least play something tolerable,” he grumbled, running a hand through his hair as he closed his eyes, trying to block out the horrendous noise that was bouncing off of the walls. It was like a circus-- loud sounds jumbled together into one horrendous cluster of chaos. He felt his head ache more and more with each passing second. It would be a lie to say he didn’t consider putting another silencing charm around her and the record player, but he wasn’t in the mood for another one of her tantrums. How Lestrange dealt with her so often, he had no idea.

He could practically see the steam coming out of her ears as she grumbled some incoherent profanities underneath her breath while looking for another record. Patience was not a virtue she possessed, he thought to himself-- but, to be honest, she lacked most senses of refinement. He wondered if everyone at Durmstrang was like this or if she was just exceptionally hard-headed. 

Avalon picked up the Duran Duran album and placed it on the record player, earning an objection the moment the song started. “This has to be a joke, right? You can’t seriously think that sounds pleasant?”

“What do you not like about it?” she asked, her voice struggling to stay level. 

“What is there to like?” he asked. “It’s so loud it hurts to even listen to.”

“You genuinely act like a grandfather,” she muttered, looking through the remaining pile of albums. Her eyes landed on an orchestral piece at the bottom of the pile and she delicately picked it out. “Is this more to your liking?” she asked, partially sarcastic but also partially praying he wouldn’t complain anymore as she placed a record of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons onto the player, watching him intently to await his reaction. 

He rolled his eyes, but shifted his attention to the book before him. She took his silence as a small victory and smiled to herself, returning to her spot on the couch without another word. He would never admit it to her, but he didn’t particularly mind the record she had finally chosen. It wasn’t as dreadful as the others and it kept her quiet, so he didn’t complain as the sounds of the orchestra filled the room.

“Zelda told me something interesting the other day,” Avalon said, peeking over towards him from the couch. 

“Which was?”

“That in order for this spell to work properly, the caster has to understand the magnitude of life. It doesn’t work if the wizard attempting it doesn’t truly grasp the sanctitude or worth of the life they are creating,” she said, staring at the coin perched on the table before her. 

He didn’t say anything, so she sighed and just continued flipping back and forth between practicing the spell and reading the text before her for a while. Not too long after, he joined her on the couch and the two of them took turns attempting the spell, aiming their wands at the coin and letting out increasingly annoyed huffs each time they failed. They bickered back and forth about technique, but Avalon had an annoyingly persistent suspicion that their technique was not their main concern. 

By the time it was getting close to when they had to depart for dinner, Avalon was grateful for the excuse to leave. His constant need to be right was driving her mad and she was fighting a terrible headache from their arguments. All that quarreling… just to make absolutely no progress. As usual.

It was safe to say that both of them were losing their minds over this bloody project. She found herself cursing Dumbledore for partnering them together. She had thought about the future headmaster a lot in the past few days-- no doubt he had done this as some sort of opportunity to get her to ‘see the good’ in Riddle. The man always was a fan of meddling in his students’ business, she thought to herself. Usually, she thought it was quite endearing, but at that moment, she couldn’t help but think of him begrudgingly. 

She walked over to the closet and opened the door, revealing the elegant dress hung within. It was a midi-length, black A-line dress with thin straps and a sweetheart neckline-- a much more reserved choice than the one Xavier had bought her for the last dinner, though still lovely nonetheless. Her eyes trailed over to Tom and she cleared her throat, though he didn’t even turn to look at her as he grunted out, “What?”

“Will you get out?” she said, though she wasn’t as much asking as she was demanding. 

He took in a deep breath, holding his tongue as he slowly turned around and looked at her. “Excuse me?”

“I said get out. Leave,” she said, the irritation rising in her voice, though he wasn’t even sure why-- he didn’t think he had even done anything particularly wrong yet. “I have to get changed for dinner.”

“I’m trying to finish this chapter,” he said, holding up his book. 

“Then by all means, take it into the hallway.”

He stared at her for a few moments, genuinely trying to understand how she had become so bloody annoying in her life, yet coming up with no possible explanation. Without another word, he turned his back towards her once more and returned his attention to the book in his hands. 

“Are you kidding me?” Avalon snarled.

“I’m not looking, don’t be a child,” he replied, his voice cold enough to stop another protest from slipping out of her lips. Once again, he heard her grumble a string of curses under her breath and he couldn’t help but hold back a laugh at her horrific attitude before the sound of shuffling behind him hit his ears as she began changing into the dress. He heard the sound of fabric softly falling against the floor and took in a deep breath, focusing on the book before him. 

He hadn’t noticed he had been re-reading the same sentence over and over again. 

She kept glancing over at him to make sure that he didn’t turn around, but as she slid the dress up and over her shoulders, he kept true to his word and held his eyes on the book before him. Her fingers fumbled with a zipper on the back of the dress, failing miserably to pull the bloody thing up for a few moments. 

“Are you finished yet?” he asked, still with his back turned to her. 

Despite her continued struggle, she was adamant to avoid asking for help, so she kept grappling with the zipper. She grumbled under her breath, “Give me a minute. This bloody zipper…”

He sighed, closing the book and setting it on the table as he waited for her to finish. Time was ticking by rather slowly and he began tapping his foot impatiently, staring at the wall before him as the soft sounds of the orchestral music she had chosen continued to fill the air. He had almost forgotten that the record was still playing-- admittedly, it didn’t bother him so much. 

He waited a couple more minutes, listening to the sounds of her struggles. It sounded like she was in battle with the bloody dress judging by the way every other word that left her mouth was an angry curse. Finally, he’d had enough and sighed, standing up and striding towards her. 

She watched him approach her with a confused look on her face, but he just rolled his eyes and motioned for her to turn around. He could tell that she wanted to argue, but he just raised an eyebrow at her and she decided against making his life difficult for once, turning so her back was towards him. 

She felt his fingers gently graze against her skin as he reached for the small metal zipper, his touch feather-light, yet causing a chill to run down her spine as he slowly dragged it up, closing the dress inch by inch. His hands were warmer than she had expected, the feeling of his fingers brushing against her skin causing her to intake a sharp breath that she couldn’t fully let out. 

“Move your hair for me,” he instructed, irritated with the way the dark strands kept tangling with the path of the zipper. She did as she was told, sweeping her hair to the side, and he was met once more with the sight of the scar that was carved so deeply into her back. 

She could sense his hesitation, his fingers pausing momentarily before he softly asked, “Did the same man from your memories give you that?”

“In a way,” she replied. He noticed how her voice lacked its usual edge, instead succumbing to a quiet hush, just barely audible over the soft music playing in the background. 

The sound of the zipper being pulled up all the way was relieving to her, and as she felt his touch leave her back, she pulled her hair back around before turning to face him. She was taken aback by how close he had been, suddenly taking a step backward and raising her chin to look up at him, meeting his gaze. There was a pensive look on his face and when his eyes met hers, for once, she could swear that they were filled with equal parts concern and confusion. 

“Did you kill him?” he asked bluntly.

She bit the inside of her cheek. By the time the Order had found her and Hermione that day, Avalon had been tortured past the point of consciousness. She didn’t get a chance to see, let alone kill, that Death Eater. For all she knew, he was still alive and out there, perhaps committing the same atrocities against others that he had done to her. That thought haunted her. “No,” she said under her breath.

“He would’ve deserved it.” He held her gaze for a moment before she looked away. 

Avalon wondered if Tom would still be saying those words if he had known that the man had been working under Voldemort’s own orders.

Tom watched her cautiously, debating his next words very carefully. He knew that if she was going to talk to him, he would have to approach the conversation very delicately-- she had an annoying tendency to shut him out as soon as he pried for information. So, he spoke softly when he said, “Can I ask you something?”

“That depends. What is it?”

“That man… there was a marking on his arm,” he said slowly, noticing the way her body tensed when he mentioned it. “Do you know what it was?”

He knew he had struck a nerve-- he just wasn’t sure why. The walls that she had built began to climb even higher as she shook her head, any hint of emotion written on her face suddenly draining to nothingness as she once more became a blank slate. “I didn’t notice it,” she lied.

“It was a skull of sorts with a snake looping out of its mouth,” he clarified, trying to hold her gaze, but hiding his irritation when she avoided his eyes and began walking towards the nearby armchair, leaning against it as she slid her shoes on. 

“I’m sure you can imagine, but the marking on his arm wasn’t particularly my biggest concern at the time,” she grumbled, desperate to change the course of the conversation. 

He knew she was lying, he just couldn’t understand why she felt the need to. She hid so much that he felt as though her entire life was a series of concealed truths that she was guarding so desperately-- but none of it made sense. That mark had been plaguing his mind ever since he saw it in her mind. He needed to know why that man had the image from Tom’s own imagination ingrained into his skin. He needed to know what she had done to find herself at the mercy of that man’s blade. And he needed to know why she was so afraid of speaking of her own past. 

“Did you know him?” he asked, desperate for any knowledge he could get.

“No,” she answered truthfully. 

“Then why would he-”

“We’re going to be late for dinner,” she said, cutting him off as she stormed towards the door. He stood there for a moment, taking in a deep breath and knowing that he would not be getting any more information out of her then. “Are you coming or not?”

He sighed and walked over to the record player, lifting the needle and enveloping the two of them in a chilling silence before he strode over to the exit, opening it quietly and motioning for her to step out first. As they made their way to dinner, neither one spoke a word to the other, yet each of their minds was flooded with a thousand swirling thoughts. 

She worried he was growing more and more suspicious of her, slowly catching onto her lies.

He worried she was growing more and more tired of his questions, once again closing herself off to him to avoid his prying. 

And both of them were absolutely right.


	14. Chapter 14

“Avalon!”

Her eyes shot open and she sat up in her bed, a thin layer of sweat on her forehead as she looked around in the dark room, rugged breaths escaping her lips as she awoke from her sleep. Zelda’s eyes met hers and she noticed her roommate sitting on the edge of the bed, her hands gently placed on Avalon’s shoulders. 

Neither one of them spoke as Avalon tried to regain her composure, placing a hand on her own chest and feeling her heart racing beneath her skin. The nightmares had been getting worse and worse and she didn’t know how to stop them. Every night brought forth another terror, haunting her mind and plaguing her rest with memories of her darkest moments and deepest fears that made her scream and lash in her sleep. 

“I’m so sorry,” she said breathlessly, avoiding Zelda’s eyes.

“You never have to apologize to me for this,” her roommate said, her voice soft as she climbed into the bed and hugged Avalon. “We had to wake up soon, anyway. You only made my life easier,” she said with a smile. Zelda had a natural kindness to her. It came effortlessly and she always knew how to make sure Avalon didn’t feel guilty for waking her up. Avalon knew she was beyond lucky to have been paired up with such a selfless roommate-- her stay here would have been significantly harder had she been living with anyone other than Zelda, who had quickly grown to be one of her closest, and only, friends. “Do you need to talk about it?” Avalon shook her head, but she wished so desperately that she could. “That’s okay,” Zelda said, giving Avalon’s arm a little squeeze. “Hey, look at me. Today is going to be so much fun, alright?” Avalon forced a smile and nodded. She had almost forgotten that today was the day of the Hogsmeade trip. “Let’s get dressed.”

Zelda stood and headed towards her dresser, staring at her assortment of clothes for a few moments, hesitating more than usual.

“You’re going to look great no matter what you wear,” Avalon said, making her roommate smile shyly.

“I’m just nervous,” Zelda replied. She had finally gathered the courage to ask the Gryffindor from her Charms class, Jane Lawrence, to accompany her on the Hogsmeade trip. Jane had said yes, and not a moment had passed since then when Zelda hadn’t been stressing over the date. 

“Zelda Shacklebolt doesn’t get nervous,” Avalon proclaimed, getting up out of bed and walking over to her friend’s side, reaching over her shoulder and picking out a gorgeous red dress from within the dresser, handing it to Zelda with a smile. “How could she not have a great time with you?”

“You’re the best,” Zelda said, holding the dress up and grinning. “What are you going to wear?”

“That’s a great question,” she replied before walking over to her own dresser. Her fingers latched onto a navy sweater and black skirt, holding them up for approval from her roommate, who nodded enthusiastically. 

“What are you and Xavier planning on doing?”

“He’s meeting me at the base of the Tower but I’m not sure about the rest of the day. I’d assume we’ll end up at a pub, though,” Avalon laughed. 

Zelda rolled her eyes. “Does that boy never grow tired of drinking?”

Avalon replied, “It truly is his favorite pastime. I fear his idea of a romantic date is drinking together while he talks about himself.”

“It’s times like this when I thank the heavens that I am not attracted to men,” Zelda said, causing Avalon to burst into a laugh. 

She’d be lying if she said that she wasn’t the tiniest bit excited for the day. The thought of going to Hogsmeade made her think of all the times she and her own friends had spent time in the town, exploring the shops and making memories filled with laughter, joy, and smiles. 

Spending the day with Xavier, on the other hand, did make her anxious. She kept telling herself that spending time with him was a good way to learn more about Tom, but even she knew that there was more to it than that-- whether she wanted to admit it or not, there was a part of her that didn’t mind the boy’s company. 

Cheeky as he may have been, he was also charming when he wanted to be and despite his flaws, he knew how to make her laugh. He wasn’t the worst company to be around. 

She felt a trace of guilt rise in the pit of her stomach when she thought about how she was here to complete a task, yet was still about to spend the day going on a date to Hogsmeade. The excitement she felt seemed like a slap in the face to the mission she had at hand, but she tried not to think about it too much. It was hard to remember the last time she had fun. Genuine, absent-minded fun. Her life both in this time and in her own had been filled with so much distrust, manipulation, and pain that she had forgotten that she was allowed to feel happy on occasion. 

She began getting dressed, thinking about the day ahead and wondering what the trip would hold in store. It didn’t take her too long to get dressed, and she sat atop her bed as she brushed her hair back and tied it into a low hanging bun. 

“Are you nearly ready?” Zelda asked as she looked at herself in the mirror and adjusted a pearl clip in her curly hair.

“Just about,” responded Avalon, searching hastily through her dresser for her coat. She let out a huff of annoyance before shifting her gaze around their room, which admittedly, she had made quite a mess out of. 

“It’s on your desk,” Zelda said without even looking over. 

Avalon’s eyes skirted towards her desk and she laughed when she saw her coat thrown across it. She grabbed it, threw it on over her outfit, and smiled. “Okay, now I’m ready.”

The two of them left their room and hurried down to the base of the Tower. For a Saturday morning, the castle was bustling with life. Students were clambering in the Common Room, everyone chattering with excitement as they got ready to make the trip to the town. She couldn’t help the smile lurking on her lips, a genuine feeling of excitement finally washing over her for the first time in a long time. 

It almost felt like a normal day-- students were excited, the castle was echoing with laughter, and if she didn’t know any better, she would nearly confuse her nerves for happiness. When she walked outside the Tower, she saw the familiar brown-haired boy waiting outside. His green eyes twinkled when he spotted her, his grin stretching wide across his face as he walked over to her. Before she could even open her mouth to greet him, he lifted her by the waist and spun her around, lowering her back into his reach and smiling as he placed a kiss atop her head. “Looking beautiful as ever, darling.”

Zelda stood just a few feet behind them and said, “Thank you, Lestrange.”

He shifted his gaze to her and smirked, “You look lovely, too, Shacklebolt.”

“This is the look of a girl who was up until the crack of dawn last night working alone on a Transfiguration project,” Zelda said sternly, putting her hands on her hips as she looked at her partner. 

“Sounds like that would be a lot easier if you worked with a partner, no?” he replied, earning an annoyed eye roll from Zelda before he focused back on Avalon. “Are you ready for the day?”

She nodded, a hint of a smile on her lips. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Good,” he grinned. “Shacklebolt, will you be accompanying us on our walk to town?”

“I’m going to meet up with Jane for our date. You two have fun, though. Maybe I’ll run into you in town,” she said. “See you around!” She waved at the two of them and scurried off into the crowd, leaving behind a disgruntled Xavier.

When she was far enough away, he turned to Avalon with a look of pure confusion on his face before asking, “Are Lawrence and Shacklebolt…?” Avalon nodded and he gasped, realization flashing across his wide eyes. “So that’s why she rejected me in Year Three.”

“One of many reasons, I’m sure,” she replied.

“Tell me you don’t mean that,” he exclaimed dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. 

“What do you want me to tell you? That you’re flawless?” she asked sarcastically.

“You said it, not me,” he grinned, winking at her before taking her hand in his. “Shall we begin?”

“Let’s,” she nodded and they began their walk to the town. He filled the journey with light banter and persistent flirtation, using every second as his own personal opportunity to make her laugh. She couldn’t help but smile at his joyous mood-- he was even giddier than usual. It seemed as though the prospect of going to a pub, which he made sure to mention several times throughout their walk, was keeping him in high spirits. 

The trek to the town lasted less than twenty minutes-- though it was made much longer due to his insistence on stopping every few minutes to ‘catch his breath,’ a code for when he wanted to slow their journey and bask in their isolation for a few moments to steal a gentle kiss to her cheek and whisper sweet nothings into her ear. 

When they finally saw the shops coming into view, he grinned and said, “Welcome to Hogsmeade.” It was just as picturesque as she remembered it, and the vision warmed her heart to see. “Come on, love, we have so much to do,” he said, picking up his pace as they scampered towards the village centre. She didn’t bother to hide the wide smile that stretched across her face, too excited to be back in Hogsmeade to attempt to hide her joy. Seeing her happy made his own grin widen, and he led her into the nearest shop, Honeydukes, while watching as her eyes sparkled with a happiness he hadn’t ever truly seen from her.

The smell of the sweets mixed with the cheerful chaos of the students piled inside the candy shop made her nearly bounce up and down with delight, staring at the mountains of treats staggering up and down the store’s walls. Hundreds of sweets brimmed the shop, their colorful display a wondrous wall of never-ending flavors. He let her lead the way through the store, patiently following her as she wandered through the aisles happily. As the familiar smells of Honeydukes brought back memories of the countless times she had come here with her own friends, she heard the sound of the register and became painfully aware of how her pockets were entirely empty. Though she had attempted, apparently the only restraint that the Room of Requirement had was that it could not produce any form of currency. She didn’t mind, though. She was content just being in Hogsmeade-- there was no need to buy anything. 

Xavier grabbed a basket from the shelves and followed behind her. Any time her stare lingered on an item for more than a moment, he quickly and quietly grabbed it and put it away in the basket, making sure she was oblivious to the pile he was amassing. He kept a safe distance to ensure she wouldn’t notice how he was grabbing nearly every sweet that her gaze fell upon, even adding a couple of his own favorites to the mix as they walked through the store. 

He snuck away momentarily, and she didn’t notice his absence until a few minutes later when she turned around to point out a wall of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans that had an entire section dedicated to vomit flavored beans. Her eyes scanned the store for a few seconds before she felt an arm snake around her waist from behind and the familiar scent of cologne and wine hit her nose. 

“Where did you run off to?” she asked, but instead of answering her, he merely lifted the largest bag she had ever seen up to her face, filled to the brim with a massive variety of sweets and treats from the store. Her eyes widened as he pressed the bag into her hands, closing her fingers around its handle. “Xavier-”

He cut her off before she could speak. “I said I’d show you a good time, didn’t I? I’m nothing if not a man of my word,” he said, pressing a kiss to her cheek before whispering into her ear, “Don’t you dare try to pay for a thing. You’re with a Lestrange today.” She opened her mouth to object and he quickly added, “Hush now, darling. We have sweets to go try.”

He took her hand and began leading her to the exit, the cool air outside the shop hitting her nose and making her sniffle when they exited. She spotted a bookstore only a couple shops down and saw Riddle standing inside, a book in his hands as he skimmed through the pages. She wondered if that boy ever stopped reading. They walked to a nearby bench and sat down, watching as their fellow students milled about and into the surrounding shops. Xavier took the bag from her hands and placed it on the bench beside them, picking out two pieces of saltwater taffy and unwrapping the sweets before he tossed one into his own mouth and hovered one before her lips. She opened her mouth and he popped it past her lips, earning a giggle from her as she closed her mouth around the strawberry flavored taffy. 

“Thank you,” she said. “For the candies, I mean.”

“Anything for you,” he replied, draping an arm around her shoulders. Both of their eyes trailed over to the obnoxiously bright pink shop across the street from them: Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop. It was filled to the brim with students, most of them seeming to be couples on dates. Avalon noticed Axel and Rosalie inside, Nott looking miserable inside the frilled up tearoom, while his girlfriend beamed at the teal and purple heart-shaped cakes placed before them. 

Xavier noticed her stare locked on the shop. He hated that shop more than any other at Hogsmeade. It was the only place girls ever wanted to go for dates, and he was quite confident that no man in his right mind would ever willingly wander into Puddifoot’s. Still, he tried to quell his weary voice and asked, “Would you like to go inside?”

She looked at him, then back at the teashop, before saying, “Dear Merlin, I’d rather choke on one of these taffys.”

He let out a sigh of relief before the grin returned to his lips and he pulled her closer into his body, kissing her cheek and mumbling into her skin, “And that is why I adore you, darling.” He paused a moment before speaking again. “I’m so glad that you came today.”

“I am, too,” she admitted. It had been a lovely day so far. The crisp air and laughter ringing through the village made it hard to fight back a smile, and her company wasn’t bad, either. She hated to admit it, but Lestrange was actually pleasant to be around. He was rowdy, and brash, and had a horrible tendency to stray towards promiscuity, but all in all, his persistence was wearing off on her-- she found herself becoming less inclined to push him away when he kept pulling her in. 

They spent a few more minutes on the bench, chatting away while they ate more of the treats he had bought them, before they stood up and began strolling down the street again. He kept the bag of treats in one hand, and with his other he laced his fingers with hers, rubbing small circles into her skin as they walked. Their route led them past Spintwitches, a sporting shop lined with dozens of dozens of broomsticks in their front display. He stared at the latest models for a moment before saying, more to himself than to her, “I need to go to the potions shop…”

“Why?” she asked curiously. 

“For the game tomorrow,” he said. He noticed her confused expression and laughed, adding, “The first Quidditch match of the year is tomorrow. Rosier and I always drink Euphoria Elixir before every match.”

“Any what is the reason for that, may I ask?” 

He shrugged. “We used to drink it to make the long matches more tolerable. But, then, one time we didn’t, and we lost that game. I think we’re the team’s lucky charms.”

“How selfless of you to care so much about the team winning,” she said, rolling her eyes. 

“I’ve been told selflessness is one of my greatest attributes,” he said, dragging her towards the potions shop. The bell atop the door rang as he opened the entrance and led the two of them inside. It was rather empty, and he smiled at the shop owner. 

“Mr. Lestrange,” the owner smiled. “It’s nice to see you again. How is your father?”

“He’s well,” Xavier replied politely. “Could I get a vial of the usual?” 

“Of course, sir,” the man nodded before walking to the back of the shop and rummaging around for a moment before pulling out a sunshine yellow potion. He scurried back and handed it to Xavier, who in turn paid for the vial before stuffing it in his coat pocket. “Is that all you’ll be needing?”

Xavier looked at Avalon and asked, “Do you want anything, love?” 

“No, I’m quite alright. Thank you, though,” she replied, smiling at the owner as Xavier nodded towards him and led her to the exit. The moment they walked out, she spotted Avery, Mulciber, Rosier, and Riddle down the street. Orion’s eyes landed on her and his face lit up, waving towards her and motioning for her and Lestrange to join the group. Avalon looked at Xavier, who just shrugged, and the two of them walked over to the others. 

“There you two are,” Orion said, walking over and wrapping Avalon in a brotherly hug, much to Xavier’s annoyance. She smiled up at the beaming blond, returning his hug and finding comfort in the warmth of his embrace before he let her go and spoke again. “Had a good day so far?”

“It’s been lovely,” Avalon said, noticing the slightly irritated look on Xavier’s face as he watched Orion talk to her. She took his hand in her own and his expression lightened up, quickly turning into a smile as she said, “Xavier’s been showing me around.”

Orion’s eyes danced towards the bag of sweets that Xavier had in his other hand and he laughed, “I take it you two went to Honeydukes?”

“We did,” she replied. “It was incredible. I think we have enough sweets to last us the rest of the year,” she said laughing. 

Rosier looked at Lestrange with a raised brow before asking, “Did you buy the Elixir?”

Xavier pulled the vial out of his pocket and tossed it to Adonis with a smirk. “I’m not one to break tradition, you know that.”

Mulciber slung his arm around Avery’s neck and grinned. “You ready for tomorrow, mate?”

“I’ve been waiting for the season to start for ages,” Avery said, excitement strewn in his voice.

“Those bloody Gryffindors won’t know what hit them,” Mulciber said. “It’s going to be wicked.”

“Will you be coming?” Orion asked, looking towards Avalon. “There will probably be an afterparty if we win, too.”

“Yes, she’ll be coming,” Xavier answered for her. “And  _ when _ we win, she will come to the party, too.”

“Sounds like fun,” she replied, earning a grin from almost everyone in the group except a stone-faced Prefect. 

“We were just about to head to the Three Broomsticks. Care to join us?” Avery asked her and Lestrange.

“Do you really have to ask Lestrange if he’d like to accompany us to a pub?” Rosier said, shooting an amused glance at his roommate. 

“I’m never one to turn down a good time,” Xavier said before pointing in the direction of the bar and lunging forward. “Onward!” The other boys laughed and began making their way after him, Mulciber racing after him and linking their arms as they hollered a song about the drinks they were going to down. 

“Tell me about your day so far,” Orion said, matching his pace to Avalon’s as they made their way towards the Three Broomsticks, Riddle and Rosier walking just a few paces before them. 

“It’s been great, honestly,” she replied. “Xavier has been, dare I say, pleasant?”

He chuckled and looked towards Lestrange, who was loudly singing with Mulciber, catching the attention of all those who walked by them in the streets. “He is in an exceptionally good mood today.”

“How about yourself? Are you having fun?” 

He nodded, but paused for a moment before answering. “I am. Wish I could spend time with Clara, though,” he said, whispering the last part. “I see all these couples having nice dates and I just... I don’t know. She deserves that. I want to be able to give that life to her.”

“One day you will,” she said, offering him a smile which he half-heartedly returned. Her eyes landed on Kyra and Renley, walking through the streets hand in hand as Patil’s boyfriend told her a story and she laughed, looking at him as though he were the only boy she had ever laid eyes on-- until her gaze landed on Riddle. She sent him a sly smirk, one that Avalon was sure Renley hadn’t even noticed, but Tom watched her with cold eyes before turning his attention back towards Rosier, engaging in their conversation once more.

She noticed Avery’s pace slowing down and she stopped to see him standing before a newspaper rack, staring at the headline before him:

_ Death Count Rises as Grindelwald and the Alliance Continue Executing Attacks on Muggle-borns. _

“Merlin,” he muttered under his breath, burying his head in his hands for a moment before letting out an exasperated sigh and continuing following after his friends, his footsteps trudging a little more than they were before.

“It’s terrible,” she said, referring to the war that she knew was still raging. 

“I know,” he agreed. “It’s horrifying because you just… never know. They’re so wrong and yet they’re so bold with their attacks.” He paused for a moment before quietly saying, “I just can’t stop fearing for Clara.”

“He’ll be stopped soon,” she said, with conviction in her voice. 

“I hope you’re right,” he sighed. “Sometimes, I think my parents might support him. And I don’t know how you could. I feel as though I should confront them, but a part of me almost doesn’t want to know,” he admitted shamefully. “Hold onto at least an ounce of hope that maybe they wouldn’t mind if I were to introduce them to Clara.” He shook his head and rubbed at his temples before muttering, “I know that’s idiotic, though.”

She placed a hand on his arm and offered a spoke softly, “It’s going to be okay. One day, he will be defeated-- I promise you.” She knew that perhaps saying things about the future wasn’t wise, but she didn’t think she was being too obvious. The subtle smile on his lips was enough to make her not regret her words, and they kept walking together in a comfortable quiet after that, watching as their fellow peers walked by, laughing and talking as they all enjoyed their day in the small village. 

They arrived at the Three Broomsticks shortly after, and Xavier wasted no time striding to the counter and sliding the bartender a handful galleons underneath the table, leaning forward and telling the man to bring out a round of drinks for their entire lot. From the way the man didn’t dare to question Xavier’s age, Avalon could tell he had done this on many occasions before. 

The bartender came over with a tray of glasses filled halfway with what appeared to be firewhiskey, placing one cup in front of each of them before walking away quietly. Xavier picked up his glass and held it up, clearing his throat and waiting for everyone to place their attention onto him. “A toast to a debaucherous last school year for our lovely seventh years,” he said, motioning towards Avery and Mulciber, “and to hoping our degeneracy doesn’t wipe off too much on our newest addition,” he said, winking at Avalon. “To the drinks we’ll have, memories we’ll make, and nights we’ll remember-”

“Get on with it!” Mulciber yelled. 

Xavier narrowed his eyes on his friend before raising his glass up once more. “Fine. To whiskey and women!”

They all cheered, and even Riddle had a hint of a smile on his lips as he shook his head and took a sip of his drink. The other boys and Avalon merely lifted their cups to their mouths and pounded back the drinks, wasting no time before Xavier motioned the bartender over and bellowed, “Another round!” He glanced at Avalon, grinning at her proudly as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, cringing slightly as the alcohol ran down her throat. 

“If only Nott were here,” Avery said wistfully, noting the absence of his best friend. 

“Too bad he’s off entertaining his whiny girlfriend,” Mulciber shrugged, grabbing a hold of his next glass of firewhiskey the moment the pub’s owner placed it before them, not sparing a moment before he downed that drink, too. “I wonder if his broomstick will even lift off the ground tomorrow with the ol’ ball and chain weighing him down.”

“We saw the two of them in the teashop,” Xavier said, holding back a laugh. “Never seen the poor bloke look so miserable in his life.” He stopped talking right as the owner of the shop walked by, calling out, “Just keep the drinks coming. Put it on my tab.”

“Speaking of the Nott family,” Rosier interjected, “I walked by mini-Nott’s room the other day and saw him waltzing by himself. Reminded me of when Axel tried learning how to dance before his first Yule Ball.”

They all laughed, and Avery spoke up. “Does that mean that the Fourth Years are starting their dance classes?”

“I think so,” Rosier shrugged. “Ball is in about a month and a half, so it makes sense.”

Xavier turned to Avalon, speaking directly to her while the others kept talking. “Every winter, right before students go home for break, we have a dance called the Yule Ball. Mark your calendar, alright?” he said with a grin.

She thought back to her last Yule Ball. She had gone with Dean, and it had been one of the last times it had felt like there was normalcy within the castle. They had a grand time-- her friends had all been there, alive, happy, and joyous. The war began raging full force not too long after, and the deaths began piling up so quickly that the rest became history. 

Mulciber eyed Riddle’s second drink, which was still left entirely untouched. Tom noticed his wandering gaze and rolled his eyes, pushing the drink towards the Seventh Year who smiled and downed his third drink before turning his attention towards Rosier. “By the way, you made my life bloody miserable last night, you know that, right?”

Rosier frowned, shooting him a glare. “What did I do?”

“Kept me up all night, that’s what. I didn’t realize you were friends with Moaning Myrtle, mate,” he said, making Rosier chuckle. “I swear, sharing a wall with you and Lestrange’s room is quite possibly the worst thing that has happened to me in all my years at this school.” 

“You know he made me sleep on the couch in the Common Room last night,” Xavier said, glaring at his roommate. 

“Only fair, considering the number of times you’ve kicked me out of the room just so you could strike out with Hendrix,” Rosier said, earning a chorus of laughter from the others. 

Xavier rolled his eyes, turning his attention to Avalon who had a hint of a rosy flush appearing on her cheeks. “Don’t mind him,” he said. “He’s only kidding,” he shrugged before lifting his next drink to his lips and swallowing it down in one big gulp. She noticed that Tom was being awfully quiet, still sipping on his first drink as he watched the others. It occurred to her that the only time he truly acted like himself was when he was alone or around the boys-- usually, he was busy trying to charm those around him. When it was just his inner circle, he became a far more reserved and quiet form of himself. Perhaps he didn’t feel the need to impress them anymore. They were, in fact, already wrapped around his finger. Surely, he didn’t feel the need to act around them. 

The door to the pub opened, and a group of professors walked in, their eyes immediately falling on the boys and Avalon. Merrythought, who was, unfortunately, among the group, stormed over to the table immediately, her eyes darting between the emptied glasses on the table and the lazy smile plastered onto their faces. 

“Surely, my eyes must deceive me. This can’t be a group of students drinking on a school trip, correct?” she said, crossing her arms as she glared at them.

Xavier shook his head, a hurt look flashing across his face. “Professor, please. It was only butterbeer. You don’t think we’d partake in such rule-bending, do you?”

“Mr. Lestrange, I was not born yesterday,” she said. 

Mulciber leaned towards Avalon and grumbled, “Clearly.”

“I know the smell of firewhiskey,” Merrythought said. “I’m disappointed in all-.”

Her sentence was cut off as the wall behind them exploded into a thousand fragments of broken brick. The impact was so great that Avalon was thrown from her chair, hitting her head on the ground as debris blew around and students and teachers alike began to scream moments before another wall was blown up in the same way. 

Chaos began to overtake the pub.

They were under attack.


	15. Chapter 15

They were under attack.

When the wall behind them was blown up, Avalon was thrown off her chair and her head hit against the stone floor with such a brute force that her vision was turned into a disoriented array of black and white spots. She heard screams, cries, coughs, and everything in between breaking out around her, but everything felt echoed, as though her head was submerged in a violent ocean. 

She felt a pair of arms wrap around her and scoop her up, carrying her out of the line of chaos and setting her down hastily but gently against a wall. Her eyes fluttered open to the sound of her name being screamed in her face. “Avalon! Avalon, wake up!”

Orion’s wide blue eyes were the first thing she saw when she started batting her eyes, trying to get her head back on straight as she looked around and saw the commotion around them. Riddle was sitting inches away, his chest rising and falling quickly as he caught his breath. The Three Broomsticks had been blown to pieces, chairs scattered the floors, students and professors were strewn across the floor unconscious, and dust hung so heavy in the air that it was hard to breathe without coughing. 

“Holy shit,” she said under her breath, quickly coming back to her senses as she looked around. She grabbed her wand out of her coat pocket, mirroring Avery, and scanned the room. 

Suddenly, clouds of sinister black smoke dipped in and out of the crumbling building as wizards apparated into view and immediately began casting spell after spell, aiming right for the students, professors, and workers that were scrambling to get out of their way. 

“Grindelwald’s men,” Riddle said, his wand gripped tightly in his fingers. The three of them were hidden behind a counter, just out of eyesight from the witches and wizards casting flashes of red every which way. Avalon peaked out from behind the safety of the counter to get a good view of the scene before them. 

She spotted Lestrange and Mulciber pulling Rosier out of the center of the chaos. It appeared Adonis had been hit by the impact of the explosion and was knocked unconscious. Xavier’s eyes were scanning the room, searching desperately for Avalon, but he couldn’t find her in her hidden corner. The three boys retreated into a corner, quickly ducking down as a spell went flying at their heads. 

The professors were all either ushering students into safe spaces or engaged in battle, trying to ward off the Alliance members that had invaded the village. Merrythought was deep in combat with a dark-haired wizard, throwing spell after spell after spell back and forth between them. The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor looked as though she was in her element, sending powerful magic rippling through the air, hitting the dark wizards square in their chests with each forceful blow. 

Avalon looked at Orion. She had never seen him look so tense. His eyes kept darting towards the exit and she could see the worry flashing on his features as he turned to her and spoke, quiet enough so that only she could hear, “I have to find Clara.”

She peeked out from their spot once more, a red flash of light nearly hitting her the moment she stuck her head out to get a view of the scene. It was a warzone-- blinding lights flying in nearly every direction as people and chairs were thrown every which way. “Let’s get out of here,” she said, turning to the boys. 

They wasted no time bolting upright and darting towards the exit. The instant that they rose up from their hiding spot, several of Grindelwald’s followers spotted them, turning their attention towards throwing flashes of blinding curses their way. 

Avalon could hear her professors screaming at them, telling them to go back into their safe spot and to get out of the battle, but she didn’t care. As she ran towards the door, the two boys following her closely from behind, it was almost instinctual how she dodged the spells that were flying towards them and quickly shot a defensive shield behind them over her shoulder, not even hesitating a moment as her actions came to her like second nature. 

War was all she had known for quite some time now. Chaos was her baseline. 

They made it outside the battered building and were greeted by the sight of hundreds of students fleeing into the streets, screams erupting through the air as black clouds of smoke revealed more members of the Alliance. Nearly every storefront was being beaten and battered, blown to bits in a fit of fury all at the hands of the intruding wizards. 

The members of the Alliance were pointing their wands at the rubble beneath them, hurling the remnants of the broken village at the terrified bystanders. She flinched when she saw a brick collide into a student’s arm, snapping it back into an unnatural angle as he fell to the ground with a pierced shriek. 

Orion’s eyes were scanning the area, desperate to land on his girlfriend yet filling with more and more fear every moment that ticked by without sight of her. His movements were frantic as he turned around, trying to find Clara in the mass of people. But she was nowhere to be seen. There were too many scurrying bodies bolting in every direction to be able to find anyone within the crowd. 

“Go find her,” Avalon said quietly, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

He turned back to her before speaking over the sound of the chaos. “I don’t want to leave you-”

His words were cut off when Avalon threw her hand up, a flash of red nearly hitting Avery right in the chest had it not been for her quick defense. Her breathing was labored as she kept the spell in her own control, keeping it from landing on the mortified blond. Her eyes locked with the wizard that had cast the spell, sending a sharp glare at him from across the street before she threw her arm in his direction, sending his own spell right back at him and hitting him in the chest. The wizard went flying backward, his body slamming into a cobbled brick building with a thud so loud that it was heard over the sounds of the screams plaguing the village square. 

Avery and Riddle both stared at her with wide eyes as she let out a sigh of relief. Orion looked at her for a few moments before muttering under his breath, “On second thought… I think you’ll be fine without me.”

She smiled at him and gave his hand a quick squeeze. “Stay safe, okay?”

“You too,” he replied, getting ready to run out when Riddle grabbed him by the arm.

“Where are you going?” Tom inquired.

“To find Nott,” Avery said, the lie rolling off his tongue quickly before he nodded to Tom and Avalon and darted into the chaos, his body disappearing within the crowd a moment later. 

Tom looked towards Avalon before speaking. “Let’s get out of here.”

“I’m not leaving,” she protested, her persistence annoying him as he rolled his eyes and motioned towards the mayhem around them.

“Do you have a death wish? Come on,” he said, glaring at her as she stood her ground before him. “Now is not the time to be so bloody difficult.”

She opened her mouth to object, but her eyes widened as she saw a large stone brick hurling at Tom from behind his back. He saw the way her face contorted into a look of pure shock, but didn’t have any time to react as her instincts kicked in and she quickly pointed her want in the direction of his head, the tip of her wand just barely grazing his ear as she aimed at the brick and clearly stated,  _ “Reducto!” _

He whipped around in time to see the stone turn to dust behind him, mere inches from colliding with his head. When he looked back at her, she mirrored the same confusion he had, and he witnessed an ounce of doubt flash across her features before she shook her head and returned her focus to the chaos around them. 

Avalon looked around, trying to make sense of the battles ensuing before her. She saw buildings being burned, windows being broken, people being thrown, and spells being cast-- but only one thing caught her eye. 

She saw the owner of the bookshop running out of his store, sheer terror on his face as a witch followed him out, a twisted smile on the woman’s face as she aimed her wand at the old man and sent a flash of green light hurtling towards him. 

_ It was always green.  _

Avalon let out a piercing scream, trying to send a defensive spell towards the man, but it didn’t stop the Killing Curse from landing, throwing the old man forward onto the ground, his body falling limp and lifeless into the center of the street as people raced past his body to get away from the warzone they had found themselves in. 

She began running towards the witch when she felt a pair of arms wrap around her from behind, holding her back. Riddle kept her tightly against him as he said, “Hendrix, don’t.”

“Let me go!” she shouted, kicking and flailing against his steadfast grip. 

“You’ll get yourself killed,” he hissed at her. 

“I told you to let me go,” she growled, shoving her elbow into his stomach and getting his grip to release before she broke free and ran at the witch, pointing her wand and sending a red flash at the woman, stunning her for a moment as she landed the spell on her. The witch came back to her senses a few moments later, shaking her head and focusing her crazed attention on Avalon. 

It felt as though the entire world faded to nothingness and all that was left was Avalon and the witch before her. The screams and explosions in the village didn’t reach her ears anymore, and all she could do was put her undivided attention into the duel she had gotten herself into. 

The light-haired witch sent a purple spell at Avalon, but she deflected it quickly, sending it crashing into a nearby window and shattering the glass. Avalon pointed her wand at the broken window, the shards of razor-sharp glass rising into the air as she focused her energy into her magic. She locked eyes with the witch and send the glass racing towards the woman-- despite the quick defensive spell that was cast, Avalon still managed to get half of the shards to pierce into the woman’s flesh, opening dozens of deep lacerations that began to ooze out thick crimson blood onto the cobbled pathway beneath them. 

In the moment that the woman hesitated and placed a finger on one of her deep cuts, Avalon quickly disarmed her, sending her wand flying into the crowd around them before she blasted the witch with a powerful gust of air, sending her soaring into a lamppost and knocking her unconscious onto the ground. 

The sight of Avalon defeating the woman caught the attention of several other members of the Alliance who were caught up in duels of their own. They all shifted their focus to the dark-haired witch, a thin layer of sweat forming on Avalon’s forehead as she began running between the Dark wizards and the fleeing students, casting as many protection spells as she could to shield her peers. 

She was painfully aware of the way several of Grindelwald’s followers were watching her, inching closer and closer towards her until one of the men finally pointed his wand at her and cast a stunning spell. It felt instinctual to turn around and shield herself from it-- acting on natural impulses that overtook her when she was in combat. 

Fighting was all she’d known for the past few years. And she was bloody good at it. 

The wizard watched her with pure animosity in his eyes. She felt fire sparking within her veins as she cast a crimson bolt in his direction, attempting to stun him but coming short when he deflected the spell. They began a back and forth battle of throwing spell after spell at one another, switching between attacking the other and defending themselves as the world around them continued to go up in flames. 

Avalon could see the other wizard growing agitated with every failed attempt to land a curse, but despite her success in defending herself, she felt the strain of the battle as powerful magic poured from her wand, draining her energy with each spell. 

It came at her so quickly that she almost didn’t have enough time to deflect it: a blast of green light so bright that it made her vision go spotty for a moment. She threw up a defense just in time, and the deadly Unforgivable stopped just short of hitting her, but the wizard across from her bore a smile on his lips that sent a chill down her spine as he laughed in her face. 

He had tried to kill her-- and he was laughing about it. Fury began to rise through her as she gripped her wand tighter, her fingers growing white as she lunged forward and directed her wand towards him, slashing the air and cutting a deep gash into his chest. He was taken aback, stumbling against his own feet as the sting of the slice set into his skin, and she took that moment as an opportunity to rapidly slash her wand through the air four more times, each time creating a newer and deeper cut across his flesh. 

His white shirt began to ooze red, and it was her turn to smile. 

Tom watched as Hendrix’s lips twisted upwards into a devilish grin. He had seen hints of this side of her when they had dueled, but never before had he witnessed her unleash her demons to this extent. She glowed with a power, with an undeniable force, that he couldn’t look away from. It was as though she became a different person in the heat of battle. 

She was fond of using magic to slice at her opponents-- she had even done it to Tom during their own duel. He couldn’t help but wonder if she realized that she was doing to others what had been done to her, or if there was a part of her that wanted others to suffer the same way she had been forced to hurt. 

As he watched her, it didn’t feel like he was even watching the Hendrix he knew. It was as though she became an entirely different person when she fought-- one that was controlled purely by her emotions and nothing else. And at that moment, he knew that she only felt one emotion: rage. 

She was strong, there was absolutely no denying that. Grindelwald’s followers were veteran wizards and witches, skilled beyond their many years and well-practiced in their Dark Arts, yet Hendrix stood before them as an equal, if not superior. She held her own with ease, and he once again found himself wondering how someone so young could be so well-practiced in combat. She didn’t fight the way one was taught in a classroom. She fought with the skill of someone who had lived through war. 

It was at that moment when Avalon heard a crack like a cannon erupting and turned just a moment before she saw a thousand sparks of red erupting towards her from another wizard’s wand. The force of the impact knocked her off her feet and she fell backward onto the stone-paved ground. Her head collided with the cobbled street, a shard of broken glass from a recently shattered window catching on her lip as she skid across the floor, tearing her skin open and filling her mouth with the metallic taste of her own pain. 

Standing was difficult, but she forced herself to get back onto her feet as quickly as possible, scrambling back into action just moments before another flash of red nearly collided with her, missing her by an inch as she darted to the side. One more witch joined her fellow members of the Alliance, the three of them surrounding Avalon from all corners. She watched them carefully, refusing to show any signs of fear as she slowly spun in a circle to watch her opponents. 

It felt as though time stopped for a brief moment. She felt her heart beating so rapidly in her chest that she feared it might burst, but she kept a steady face as she exhaled one last breath of oxygen…

And then all hell broke loose. She found herself dodging and deflecting spell after spell after spell-- each of the three wizards attacking her with every ounce of their being, determined to put an end to her feisty existence. She was a threat, and they’d had enough. 

There was no opportunity for her to attack anymore-- she was purely on the defensive side. All she could do was try to deflect as many curses as she could. The red lights surrounding her were so bright that she was growing disoriented, losing sight of where each spell was coming from. There were too many attacks coming her way, and as hard as she tried to deflect them all, she was overpowered. She managed to land a stunning spell on one of the Alliance members, temporarily halting the witch, but the other two powered on, fighting against Avalon with all that they had.

One of the remaining wizards pointed his wand at her and hissed a spell she had never heard before, sending a stream of dark purple embers hurtling towards her. She quickly cast a counterspell in the same direction, their magic meeting halfway in an explosion of red and purple. Her body pulsed with pure power as she willed every ounce of her energy into her magic, having to grasp her wand with both hands as she struggled to maintain control over her force. A pained grunt left her lips as she watched as her spell inched closer and closer towards her opponent, using all of her focus on making sure this was not a battle she would lose. 

She noticed the green light flying towards her from her side, but she couldn’t move. 

Tom appeared suddenly by her side, placing his body between her and the Killing Curse just a moment before it collided into her. With a diagonal slash of his wand, he shielded the two of them from the deadly curse with not a moment to spare. He locked eyes with the man that had cast the spell before he pointed his wand at the wide-eyed wizard and sent the curse flying right back at him. The green flash collided square into his body, crumpling him lifeless onto the ground, dying at the hands of his own Unforgivable magic. 

Avalon mustered all the energy she had into her spell, finally sending her own opponent crashing backward onto the ground with a loud thud before she was able to glance back at Tom. 

He had never seen her look quite so shocked. 

And, truthfully, he wasn’t any less confused than she was. He didn’t know why he had stepped in, but in the moment, it felt as though it wasn’t even a choice. A part of him rationalized that it was merely breaking even with her, after she had stopped the brick from hitting him earlier. But another part of him knew that he could have let her die in that instant and never would’ve had to deal with her, her intolerable attitude, or her annoyingly misguided moral compass ever again. 

He didn’t know why he hadn’t just let her die. But he didn’t have time to think about it as the remaining witch recovered and signaled to an ally to join her, the two of them quickly engaging in simultaneous duels with Tom and Avalon. 

They stood back to back, each one of them fighting against one of Grindelwald’s followers as they battled for their lives in the middle of the village square. The spells flying towards them were such an unnatural shade of indigo that Avalon knew they were being met with Dark Magic that even she had never seen before. 

She fought her opponent as though he were just another faceless Death Eater that had stolen one of her friends away from her. Her anger sparked through her fingertips, feeding a force within that powered each of her spells with an intensity that was difficult to battle against. 

Tom, on the other hand, was dodging spell after spell, allowing himself to be on the defensive end while he studied his opponent’s fighting style and took notes, quickly figuring out the witch’s strengths and weaknesses as he let her send several attacks his way. He noticed how she would lower her wand to her side after every spell she cast, taking a moment to catch her breath before she sent the next bit of magic his way.

He waited for the next moment she lowered her arm, allowing her to throw as many spells as she liked at him in the meantime, easily dodging each one. The instant she put her hand down, he was ready-- he aimed his wand right at hers, disarming her in one swift motion. 

The woman looked as though she had seen a ghost when he grinned at her and said,  _ “Incarcerous _ .” A glowing rope shot out of his wand, wrapping around the witch’s neck and winding tighter and tighter until choked gasps escaped her lips. Tom didn’t ease his hold on her, though, and instead willed the rope to only dig deeper into her neck, ignoring the way that she clawed at its grip, desperately trying to rip it off to no avail. Her eyes looked as though they were close to bursting out of her head, and he kept his hold on her for just a moment longer before swiping his wand and sending her flying into a window, the glass shattering around her as her body crashed into a nearby store. 

He took his momentary victory as a chance to glance around. There weren’t many people left in the streets. It seemed as though most students had already fled the scene. All that was left were countless members of the Alliance, a couple of professors who were ushering remaining students to safety, and a slew of Ministry Aurors who had finally arrived on the scene and were beginning to take over the fights.

Through the chaos, he spotted a familiar head of curly brown hair, shoving his way through the crowds as his green eyes undoubtedly searched for Avalon. Tom felt a moment of irritation as he wondered how he found himself having to be stuck in battle, side by side with Xavier’s innately annoying girl while the fool, himself, was nowhere to be found throughout the dueling.

Xavier’s eyes finally landed on Tom and Avalon as another one of Grindelwald’s men joined the wizard Avalon was facing. It felt as though every time they defeated one of them, another Dark wizard only took their place, creating a never-ending replacement of wizards and witches that they had to subdue. Tom quickly engaged with the new opponent, making sure to draw attention towards himself so that Avalon could continue in her duel with the wizard at her hands. 

Avalon was starting to feel the strain of the fighting take a toll on her. Her body ached with every spell she cast, and as her adrenaline waned she felt her muscles searing with a burning pain as the magic drained her energy more so with each landed blow. Her head was ringing from her earlier fall, and her mouth was still filled with the metallic taste of her own blood, but she had no time to focus on any of that. All she could do was put her remaining grit into defeating the wizard before her. 

She was so wrapped up in her combat that she barely registered Riddle shouting out her name, trying to warn her of the rogue red spell hurdling her way. “Hendrix-”

Before she could react, she felt her body being knocked out of the way as she was tackled to the ground, Xavier letting out a pained scream as the red curse hit him on the side of his shoulder. His grip on her loosened as he fell onto the pavement, his eyes shutting from the pure pain that took over his senses. 

Xavier’s entire being felt as though it was on fire. He had never experienced hurt quite like this before and found his vision going spotty as the feeling of multiple shattered bones seared through his body. 

Avalon’s eyes widened as she heard him cry out in pain. She quickly rose to her feet, turning her attention back to the wizard she had been dueling, her rage coursing through her with a newfound intensity fanned by the image of Xavier wincing on the ground. It was near instant the way she sliced through the air and the wizard fell to the ground, blood pouring out of his two newly torn Achilles tendons. She disarmed him for good measure before falling to her knees before Xavier. 

“Xavier,” she said, putting a hand on his cheek. “Xavier, please look at me!” His eyes were tightly shut, and every slight movement made him sharply wince. She watched helplessly as Aurors finally reached them, fighting the remaining members of the Alliance as the Dark wizards began to retreat. “Somebody help!”

Tom defeated the wizard he was battling with one final stunning spell, knocking them out entirely before he strode briskly over to Avalon and Xavier. “What happened?”

“H-he…knocked me out of the way and-” she felt her brain rushing with a million swarmed thoughts. She couldn’t handle seeing another person she cared about in pain. Especially not if she was the reason. “I don’t know. We need to get him back to the castle.”

Tom kneeled down by Xavier before he spoke. “Can you walk?”

Xavier didn’t bother to open his eyes as he choked out, “Does it look like I can bloody walk?”

Avalon’s fingers were shaking once more as she pointed her wand at the boy and said,  _ “Lenio.”  _ It wasn’t much, but she took note of how the weak healing spell made the pained wince on his face ease up just a little bit. “I need you to walk back with us to the castle. Can you do that for me?” she asked, her voice soft as she kept her hand on his cheek and gently caressed his skin. 

His emerald eyes finally opened and he took in a deep breath, looking at her with enough focus to convince anyone that she was the only person in his world. He just barely nodded his head, but she smiled at the effort and placed a feather-light kiss atop his forehead, earning a pained smile in return. 

Tom took hold of the arm that hadn’t been hit by the blast of the spell and got ready to help Xavier up. Avalon watched as Xavier took in a deep breath and nodded at Riddle before struggling to get onto his feet, requiring ample support from the Prefect. 

The Aurors were succeeding in clearing out the village. Very few members of the Alliance remained, and those that were left were all quickly retreating, trying to avoid being captured by the Aurors, though some of them were detained and thrown against the ground, their hands immediately bound behind their backs with unbreakable glowing shackles. Still, the carnage of the battle was ample through the streets. Buildings were battered, burned, and beaten. Cries of the wounded sounded like alarms through the streets, and the bodies of the few casualties stared lifelessly at the sky. She scanned the area, desperately hoping not to see the empty eyes of anyone she had known. There were very few casualties, by the looks of it, and most of them seemed to be Grindelwald’s followers. The bookshop owner still lay in the street, though an Auror was standing over him, gently closing his eyes for the last time. She felt a pang in her heart and had to look away. 

Tom had successfully helped Xavier to his feet and slung Lestrange’s non-injured arm over his own shoulder, steadying him as they braced for the journey ahead. Avalon felt utterly useless as she watched the two boys slowly begin walking in the direction of the castle, a pained hiss leaving Xavier’s lips every time he took a step. 

She felt a rising uneasiness creeping into her mind while she walked behind the two boys. All she could think about was how both of them had risked their lives for her today.

And she hadn’t the slightest clue why. 


	16. Chapter 16

The journey back to the castle was long and cumbersome. Xavier kept slipping in and out of consciousness, forcing Tom to have to carry most of the boy’s weight on his own and slowing their trip. Avalon tried her best to help, but there wasn’t much she could do other than offer words of encouragement to the brown-haired boy as he bit back tears each time they took another step forward. 

When they finally reached Hogwarts, the entire castle was bustling with hundreds of students, professors, and Healers sent by the Ministry, all of them running around trying to transport the injured students to the Hospital Wing. Despite having a near-unconscious boy slung over his shoulder, Tom blended in amid all the chaos-- Xavier just another one of the students that had been struck in the attack. 

He and Avalon moved quickly through the crowd, carrying Lestrange to the Hospital Wing as efficiently as they could, pushing past shocked students who had witnessed the attacks, as well as curious younger kids that had emerged from their dormitories at the sound of all the commotion ensuing as students returned from Hogsmeade. Word of the attack spread like a wildfire, nearly everyone informed of the mayhem within minutes of arrival. 

The Hospital Wing was the busiest it had ever been-- nearly every bed was already occupied with another groaning student, Madam Bardot running around trying to help as many people as she could all at once. The poor woman looked aghast as she bolted from one hospital bed to the next, trying her hardest to focus on all the critically injured students. 

Avalon spotted Renley Travers near the entrance, instructing the new arrivals and shouting over the chaos of the hospital. “If you are not critically hurt, please make your way to the Great Hall!” His eyes scanned the room and Avalon could tell the Head Boy had never seen quite so much destruction before. “All minor injuries will be taken care of in the Great Hall!”

Madam Bardot’s eyes finally landed on Xavier, who at this point, was simply dead weight hanging atop Tom. She scurried over, her focus zoning in on the boy. “Dear Heavens…” she said under her breath. “Help him to the bed!” She motioned for Tom to follow her towards one of the only available beds in the room and the two of them gently sprawled Xavier on the mattress, making sure to keep his shoulder as steady as possible. “What happened?” she asked urgently.

“He was struck by some sort of jinx in his shoulder,” Avalon replied. “I don’t know which, but I think it may have broken some bones.”

The Healer examined Xavier for a moment, holding her wand over him and whispering a few spells under her breath before she shook her head and sighed. “He didn’t just break his bones, my dear. They are completely shattered.”

“Will he be okay?” Avalon asked, worry ridden in her voice. 

“He needs a lot of help,” she admitted. “If the two of you are not injured yourselves, please clear out for the time being so I can focus on the students who need assistance,” she said, motioning for Avalon and Tom to leave. 

Avalon opened her mouth to object, refusing to leave Xavier’s side. “Can I stay-”

“Miss Hendrix, I need you to leave room for those who must be here. If you and Mr. Riddle would, please exit the Hospital Wing. You can visit Mr. Lestrange later tonight.”

Tom nodded and said, “Yes, Madam Bardot. Thank you for your help,” before he grabbed Avalon's wrist and began pulling her towards the exit. She was about to yell at him and demand to be let go, but the sound of another student screaming shifted her attention.

Nott was being dragged out of the Hospital Wing, two professors having to hold him back as he tried to shove his way forward. “I need to be with her! Get off of me!” His forehead was bleeding down the side of his face, but he seemed to pay it no mind as he violently thrashed against the hold of the adults. Avalon followed his line of vision and noticed Rosalie lying in a hospital bed not too far away, unconscious with two Healers looming over her and hovering their wands as they tried to do their best to help her. 

Avalon wrenched her wrist away from Tom and quickly walked over to Nott, standing before him and calling out his name as she tried to get his attention. “Hey Axel, it’s okay! Let’s get out of here and fix your forehead, alright?” His eyes were wild with a frantic worry, but he momentarily stopped thrashing against those restraining him. “The best thing you can do for her is let the Healers do their jobs.”

Nott looked over Avalon’s shoulder, getting one last glance at his beloved before he sighed and shook the professors off, turning around abruptly and walking towards the exit. Tom and Avalon followed close behind him. 

Avalon spoke softly when she talked to him. “What happened?”

He stared blankly ahead as they walked towards the Great Hall, refusing to meet her eyes. “We were in Puddifoot’s when it all happened. The wall behind us was blown apart and the ceiling fell onto us. She got it worse than I did. Bardot said that she has internal bleeding.”

“She’ll be okay,” Avalon said comfortingly. “Madam Bardot will be able to heal that. It’ll just take some time.”

He shook his head, burying his face in his hands as he spoke. “It should have been me.” A moment passed before he finally looked at Avalon, his eyes focusing on her busted lip. “Are you two okay?” 

“Yeah, we’re okay. Xavier’s shoulder is quite hurt, though. He pushed me out of the way and took a pretty bad blow,” she said, a wave of guilt washing over her. 

“Have you seen any of the others?” Nott asked. 

“Avery said he was looking for you,” Tom said. “Did he not find you?”

Axel’s eyes widened when he shook his head. “No, I haven’t seen him.”

Avalon felt a knot in her stomach when she thought about Orion. She prayed that he and Clara were okay. 

As they entered the Great Hall, Avalon noticed several students watching them, whispering and pointing as they walked. The Great Hall was just as crowded as the Hospital Wing, if not more so. Students were littered all over the ground, most of them bruised and battered, but thankfully none seemed to be in too bad of shape. A handful of Healers and professors were scurrying around, offering help to those who needed it, but for the most part, it seemed as though the bulk of the adults were busy in the Hospital Wing. 

The trio quickly spotted Rosier and Mulciber, both of them slumped against a wall towards the back of the Hall. They made their way over, greeting them shortly before Rosier asked, “Where are Lestrange and Avery?”

“Lestrange took a blow to the shoulder. He’s in the Hospital Wing. We haven’t seen Avery,” Tom answered curtly. 

“And Rosalie?” asked Mulciber, turning his attention to Axel.

“Hospital,” he answered shortly, not wanting to explain himself twice. 

Avalon heard a familiar voice shouting over the sound of the Great Hall and her head whipped around quickly to see Zelda instructing the uninjured students to get back to their rooms so the Healers could focus on those who still needed assistance. “I repeat! If you and your friends are safe, please go back to your rooms!”

Avalon stood up and quickly bolted over to her roommate, engulfing her in a hug the moment she reached her. “You’re safe,” she said, holding her tightly. 

Zelda returned the embrace, letting out a breath of relief. “You too. Merlin, I was worried sick about you.”

They let go of each other and Avalon scanned the rest of the room. “How bad is it?”

“So far, we don’t think that we lost any students. From what I gather, there were very few casualties and most were Grindelwald’s own followers. We were apparently quite fortunate.”

“Is Jane alright?”

Zelda nodded, pointing to the other side of the Hall where Jane was busy crouched in front of another student, helping heal minor injuries. Avalon sighed, feeling a slight sense of relief overtake her. She did, however, notice again how many students were staring at her. When she met their eyes, they quickly looked away. It was different than usual, though. She was used to the students staring at her-- they had been ever since she was introduced as a Durmstrang transfer. But, no, these stares were much different. They weren’t filled with fear. “Why is everyone staring at me?”

Zelda let out a light laugh and shook her head. “Why are they staring at you? Perhaps it’s because word spread that you and Riddle single-handedly took down several members of the Alliance. Are the two of you on better terms?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Honestly, I don’t know why he even helped me.”

“He may seem heartless, but I don’t think even he would leave you there alone,” Zelda said.  _ If only she knew _ , thought Avalon. “How about the other boys? Are they all alright?” Zelda asked, referring to Xavier and his friends.

“Xavier was hit quite badly. He’s in the Hospital Wing.”

“What happened?”

“I was dueling one of the Alliance members when he shoved me out of the way and got hit by a spell that had been aimed at me,” she said. “It messed up his shoulder quite badly. The other boys are all okay. I haven’t seen Avery, though. Have you?”

“I spotted him not too long ago. He was with a group of other students near the entrance to the castle,” Zelda answered, her eyes slowly fixating on Avalon’s lip. “Let me fix that for you,” she said, pulling her wand out. 

“Actually, can you help with Nott?” Avalon asked, dragging her friend back over to the boys, who were all sitting in a shocked silence. The thought occurred to Avalon that none of these boys had ever truly witnessed battles in their lives-- they had lived in the confines of their own privileged households, each of them used to comfort and luxury. For most of them, this had been the first time they had even witnessed a duel outside of a classroom. 

Zelda knelt down beside Nott, examining the bleeding cut on his head. “May I?”

He nodded, thanking her quietly before she began casting healing spells on him. 

Avalon leaned against the wall behind her, finally taking a moment to catch her breath when Riddle walked over, his figure casting a shadow over her as he silently pointed his wand at her face and fixed her lip. She lifted her fingers to the now healed spot before grumbling, “I could have done that.”

“A simple ‘thank you’ is sufficient, Hendrix,” he said, rolling his eyes. 

She sent him a pointed glare but muttered a quiet ‘thank you’ under her breath. He put his wand back into his coat pocket, looking around the room for a moment before her voice caught his attention once more. “Why did you help me fight them?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Why did you help me fight them?” she repeated. “You could have left, but you stayed in harm’s way. Why?”

He shrugged. “Why did you stop that brick?”

She thought about it. If he had died at Hogsmeade, his soul would have lived on in his Horcruxes, and finding them without him would have proven to be a near-impossible feat that would only prolong her mission of finding and destroying them. But, truthfully, that thought hadn’t even graced her mind when she had saved him. It was just instinctual. And she worried about why she had been so quick to jump to his defense. 

“Why would I have done anything else?” she asked.

“I could say the same,” he replied. “Consider us even now.”

She opened her mouth to reply when she saw Avery out of the corner of her eye. His blue eyes landed on her at that same moment and she ran to him, leaving Riddle behind and shoving past everyone else in her way as she made her way across the Hall. 

Tom watched as she ran to Avery. The two of them had evidently grown much closer, and Tom hadn’t the slightest clue why. They weren’t in the same year, nor were they in the same house… it was rather curious to him where their sudden friendship had come from. He didn’t particularly mind-- if nothing else, perhaps she would open up to Avery more so than she had been to Lestrange. Tom didn’t care which one of the boys was able to gain her trust, as long as one of them got him the information he wanted. He wanted to know everything about her. After seeing her in battle today, he fully realized how big of an asset she could be. Her knowledge, her past, her secrets… his mind wasted far too many hours thinking about her, and he was growing tired of it. 

Avery wrapped Avalon in a tight hug, embracing her the moment she was in arm's reach. “You’re okay,” he whispered breathlessly as he held her close. 

“So are you,” she said, rubbing his back before letting go and looking around. “Where is Clara? Is she safe?”

He nodded. “Yes, she’s with her friends right now. They’re all safe.” A moment passed before he sighed and spoke again. “It’s a miracle that no students were killed.”

She nodded in agreement, but she couldn’t stop thinking about the lives that  _ were _ lost. She thought about the bookstore owner…the sight of his lifeless eyes haunted her the same way the eyes of those lost in the Battle of Hogwarts haunted her-- still, cold, and drained. Nothing left of the person they once belonged to, just empty windows into a hollowed-out body. 

She thought about that damn green flash. 

Green. Green. Green. _ It was always green. _

She hated that color. She hated everything about it. 

Avalon remembered the other green flash she had seen-- the green flash that Tom had saved her from. She had seen him deflect the curse back at the wizard out of the corner of her eye, but she hadn’t thought much into it until now: had he killed that man just because he could, or had it been to protect her?

He had thrown himself into the line of fire for her-- and she didn’t know why. This was Tom Riddle. He didn’t protect other people: he protected himself and only himself. He lived a life of pure self-preservation, he always had and he always would. That was what would one day turn him into the Lord Voldemort that she knew. The Lord Voldemort that killed her friends. 

No, Tom Riddle did not protect others. 

He said it himself, they were even. There was nothing more to it-- he was repaying a debt. The thought of her having saved him drove him mad, and he couldn’t stand to let himself be indebted to her, so he helped her. Nothing less, nothing more.

So why couldn’t she stop thinking about it?

Several hours later, she was running through the dark corridors to make her way to the Hospital Wing. Word had just gotten out that visitors could finally go in and see the injured, so she was bolting to get there as quickly as she could. Night had fallen and embraced the castle in an envelope of stillness. The commotion had died down for the most part-- the hallways were near empty and all that remained were a few stray Aurors roaming the castle grounds to ensure that no more danger could ensue that night, though it seemed as though the worst had already passed.

When she reached the Hospital Wing, the other Slytherin boys were arriving at the same moment: Avery, Nott, Mulciber, Rosier, and even Riddle who was straying towards the end of the group. She gave them a curt nod and walked in as Mulciber held the door open. 

Xavier was still in the same bed that they had seen him in last, though a wave of relief washed over her as she saw his eyes were open and he was sitting up. When he spotted his friends, a wide grin spread across his face and he waved them over with his non-injured arm. 

Axel wasted no time beelining towards Rosalie, which made Xavier laugh and call out, “Good to see you, too, mate.”

“Sod off, you’re alive,” Axel called out over his shoulder before kneeling down before his sleeping girlfriend and placing a kiss on her forehead. 

“Good to see you’re awake,” Rosier said, walking over and standing by Xavier’s bed.

“Yeah, yeah, spare me the sob story. Did the Elixir survive?” Xavier asked, earning a groan from near everyone in the group.

Rosier rolled his eyes, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out the Euphoria Elixir. “Lucky for you, I fell on my back.”

“At least one good thing came out of today,” Xavier said before turning his attention to Avalon. “Darling, are you alright?”

She sat down on the side of his bed, moving a loose curl away from his eyes before she spoke. “I am, thanks to you. How are you feeling?”

“Aside from the fact that I have no bones in my left shoulder? Quite dandy,” he replied.

“No bones?” Avery asked incredulously, staring at his slightly drooping shoulder.

Xavier laughed. “Yeah, they spent a few hours trying to heal the bones, but there were too many tiny shards to do it properly. So, they just cleared them all out and gave me Skele-Gro to regrow them from scratch.”

“You mean to tell me that there are no bones in there right now?” Mulciber asked, earning a nod from Lestrange. “Wicked. Can I feel it?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” he said, motioning for the long-haired boy to scoot next to him and curiously poke and prod at his jelly-like shoulder. 

“That’s disgusting,” Mulciber said, but continued to touch his friend’s shoulder until Xavier finally swatted his hand away. “I heard Skele-Gro is bloody painful.”

“Madam Bardot told me I’m in for a rough night. But, I mean, can’t be that much worse than shattering my shoulder, right?” Xavier replied before letting out an exasperated sigh. “Merlin, after the day I’ve had, I cannot wait to get absolutely sloshed tomorrow,” he said, his expression suddenly shifting to become one of panic. “The game is still on, right?”

“You’re in the bloody Hospital and you’re thinking about the Quidditch match?” Avery said, shaking his head.

“I’ll be out by the morning, alright? Just answer the question-- I’ve had a long day,” he groaned.

“It’s still on. They almost canceled it but since no students were seriously injured or killed, they figured it would help with morale,” Avery replied.

“Because nothing helps with the trauma of experiencing a terrorist attack more than watching students get beaten to a pulp by a bludger,” Mulciber laughed. 

Tom was standing towards the back of the group, his attention focused on Axel and Rosalie not too far away. The girl was still unconscious, but Nott was holding her hand and placing delicate kisses atop her fingers as he whispered inaudible words into her ears. A stray tear fell down his cheek as he sat beside her sleeping figure and stroked her golden hair. Tom thought about how Nott had been thrashing against the hold of his professors earlier in this same spot, causing a scene as he tried to get closer to his girlfriend. His love for the girl was his greatest weakness. It made him impulsive, rash, and reckless. Tom pitied him. 

People were truly debilitated by their emotions…especially love. 

On the other hand, however, he thought about Hendrix. She let her emotions control her entirely. Everything she did was either out of love, hate, or anger-- it seemed as though those were her three defaults. But she was anything but weak. 

No, she was quite the opposite: one of the most powerful witches he had ever come across. There was a fire within her that was ignited by her ability to feel everything with such an intensity that it burned everything in her wake. It was her greatest strength, but he also knew it could one day be her undoing. 

He wondered if he could use that to his advantage. 

She was a force to be reckoned with, and he wanted her to fight on his side. Her power could prove to be very useful to him, but only if she bowed to him. Having her as an opponent was a thought he didn’t want to consider-- she was, as much as he hated to admit it, a threat if not contained. 

And he would let nothing get in his way. So, he knew she would have to be kept close. Thankfully, both Lestrange and Avery were seemingly making progress with her. He made a mental note to speak to Avery about her sometime soon, though he knew that getting the boy to open up to Tom about Avalon would prove to be quite a tedious task. It appeared as though Avery had grown quite fond of the girl-- perhaps it was because they shared the same heart. They were both far too idealistic for their own good. 

Tom’s thoughts were cut short by a sharp groan coming from Lestrange as he doubled over in pain. Hendrix was holding his hand and a flash of worry overtook her hazel eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“The Skele-Gro is kicking in,” Tom noted. “I think it’s best we leave him for the night.”

“Yeah, get some rest, mate,” Mulciber said. 

“We’ll see you in the morning, okay? Try not to keep the rest of the Hospital Wing up with your crying,” Rosier said, waving as he began to head towards the door, the other boys following after him.

Xavier rolled his eyes. “Lots of girls are scared to sleep alone tonight. Put our room to good use,” he said, wincing towards the end of the statement as another wave of pain washed over him. Avalon shot him a glare, but his eyes were shut too tightly to notice. 

She was still holding his hand when she stood up. “Will you be okay tonight?”

His grip on her hand tightened as he grumbled out, “I take a jinx in the shoulder for you and this is how you thank me?” He opened his eyes, a slight laugh escaping his lips as he joked. “Darling, will you stay with me?”

“I don’t think I can,” she replied, looking around skeptically. 

“Nott is spending the night with Rosalie,” he pointed out, motioning towards Axel, who had already curled up behind his sleeping girlfriend and taken his spot for the rest of the night. Most of the other students in the room were already fast asleep, too-- the exhaustion induced by their injuries mixed with the drowsiness of the potions they had taken causing them to fall into a deep slumber. 

“Yes, but they’re also dating,” she replied. 

His eyes softened for a moment as he looked at their intertwined fingers before shifting his gaze back to hers. He pulled her hand closer to him so that she would once again sit back down on the side of the bed as he rubbed gentle circles onto the back of her hand. It looked as though he was choosing his next words very carefully, wanting so desperately to say the right thing as he opened his mouth to speak. She thought that this might have been the first time she had ever seen him look unsure of himself. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.” She narrowed her eyes, but he kept speaking. “You’ve barely been here a month and yet you’ve already captured my heart. I find myself thinking about you day and night and I want you to be mine and only mine.”

“Xavier-”

“You can’t deny that there’s something between us, right? So let’s just make this official. Be mine,” he said, his words spilling out quickly before a sharp wince left his lips, the Skele-Gro taking effect. “Don’t think, darling, just say yes.”

She hesitated while she thought. Never in a million years did she imagine that she would find herself entering a relationship while she was in this time, but she did wonder if dating Lestrange could open up a world of new opportunities to learn more about Riddle. Perhaps being truly part of their inner circle would help her gain their trust. And, she didn’t particularly mind his company-- he had, in fact, landed himself in the Hospital Wing for her. 

A small part of her felt bad for using him as a means to an end, though she rationalized that his heartbreak was a small price to pay if it meant that she could save the wizarding world in the future. So, she smiled at him and nodded. “Alright, Xavier.”

His eyes lit up as he grinned. “So, yes?”

“Yes.”

He whispered, “Thank Merlin,” under his breath before he reached out and put a hand behind her neck, gently pulling her forward until she leaned in close enough for him to crash their lips together in a delicate kiss, his fingers tangling themselves into her hair as he kept her close. 

She returned his kiss, but felt a pang of unease displaying their affection so publicly and found herself pulling away moments later, much to his displeasure. He let out a huff of annoyance as her lips left his, but patted the area next to him anyway. “Lie with me?”

She shifted her weight to lay herself down next to him, but only a moment passed before he let out a blood-curdling scream, wincing as the potion began growing his bones back. It was apparent that his suffering would only grow worse, and his sudden outbursts of pain had already begun to wake several other students surrounding them. “You’re going to be okay,” she whispered, gently stroking his cheek, but his features were littered with pure agony as he let out another gut-wrenching cry. “I’m going to get Madam Bardot,” she said, quickly getting up and rushing out to the hallway where she had seen the Healer exit. 

When she walked into the hallway, she was met with the sight of Madam Bardot speaking to Dumbledore. Their conversation came to a halt when they saw her approaching. She looked between the two of them before speaking. “I apologize for interrupting, but I was hoping you could check up on Xavier,” she said to the Healer. “He appears to be in a lot of pain and I was wondering if perhaps there is anything you can give him that could alleviate any of that. His screaming is waking the other students.”

“Oh, dear Heavens,” the woman said. “I’ll put a silencing charm around his bed and give him a strong pain-relieving potion that will knock him out. Poor thing won’t remember a thing about the rest of the night when he wakes up tomorrow morning, but at least he won’t be suffering.”

“What do you mean he won’t remember the rest of the night?” Avalon asked curiously.

“The potion has some serious side-effects. He won’t be in pain, but it will wipe his memory of anything that happens after the moment he drinks it. I’ll go tend to him now,” the woman said before nodding at the two of them and walking back into the room. When she opened the door to go inside, Avalon heard Xavier’s pained screams echoing from within and shuddered. 

The Transfiguration professor shifted his attention towards Avalon. “I was told you and Mr. Riddle were quite brave today, Miss Hendrix.”

“We only did what had to be done, sir,” she replied. 

“You two make an impressive duo,” he said. “I see a lot of potential in both of you.”

“With all due respect, sir, where were you today? Surely, your assistance could have been greatly appreciated in the attack,” she said abruptly, ignoring his last comment. 

His eyes twinkled in amusement at her brashness before becoming serious once more. “Unfortunately, I was attending some business elsewhere. It is not out of the realm of possibility that Grindelwald and his followers saw my absence as a perfect opportunity to execute an attack so close to the castle.” He paused a moment before adding, “It appears, however, they severely underestimated their targets. It is incredible what can be achieved when two people are left no choice but to work together,” he said, a subtle smile on his lips. “How is your project coming along?”

“To be perfectly frank, Professor, the project has been the least of my concerns today,” she replied.

“Quite understandable,” he said. “Please, do try and get some rest tonight, Miss Hendrix.”

“I will do my best,” she replied with a short nod before she walked back into the Hospital Wing. She saw Madam Bardot walking away from Xavier’s bedside. The boy’s mouth was open, and he looked as though he were in pain, though she couldn’t hear his cries anymore. By the looks of it, a silencing charm had already been placed around him. 

The Healer made her way over to Avalon and sighed. “I gave him the potion. I expect it will take effect in the next few minutes, but he will be quite out of it for the remainder of the night. Do you plan on staying here?”

“I had intended to,” she said.

“If his pain seems to persist throughout the night, please let me know. I will give him another dose of the potion, though I expect he has already had more than enough.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you,” Avalon said with a smile before walking back over to Xavier. The moment she climbed back onto his bed, she entered his small bubble and began to hear his voice again, though his cries were already becoming much more subdued as the elixir began to take effect. 

When he looked over at her, she saw a sense of disoriented disarray in his eyes that was only mirrored in the slurred speech that left his lips. “A-Avalon? Darling… is that… y-you?”

“It’s me,” she said softly, taking his hand into her own. “How are you feeling?”

“Yes.”

She stared at him blankly, waiting for him to speak more, but he didn’t. “Are you in pain?”

His eyes began to flutter shut, struggling to stay focused as they darted around the room. Only when she put a hand on his cheek did his hazy gaze fall back towards her, though there was very little sign of mental consciousness in his stare. “Another r-round for the t-table, please.”

His head lulled to the side, slumping across the pillow as his grip on her hand loosened. She watched him closely, realizing that the potion Madam Bardot had given him was already working its magic on him. 

A nagging voice in the back of Avalon’s head gave her the idea of prying into Xavier’s mind to see if she could get any information out of him. Her conscience advised her against it, thinking that it may be cruel to dig into his subconscious as he is so vulnerable, yet she couldn’t deny that this was a seemingly perfect opportunity to make progress-- real progress-- on the mission that had brought her here to begin with. 

Her eyes scanned the room, but it appeared as though Madam Bardot was busy attending to another student and the others in the room were all, by the looks of it, already asleep. It felt wrong, but she knew she couldn’t turn away this chance. This could be her key to truly finding out what she needed to know about Riddle and his Horcruxes. So, she promised herself that she would only look into his memories that related to Riddle, and nothing else, but persisted with her initial plan. She took in a deep breath, calming her own nerves before she gently turned his head to face her. His eyes fluttered open at her touch, and she gazed into his stare before stating,  _ “Legilimens.” _

_ The memory was so blurry that she couldn’t distinguish any faces. It appeared as though his hazy mind was compromised by the pain medication, turning even his own memories into a disoriented mess of faceless figures and echoing voices.  _

_ For a moment, she caught a glimpse of Lestrange, Riddle, and Rosier sitting around a table at a library. She heard them speaking, but their voices were so muffled that she couldn’t understand a word.  _

_ Another memory came into view. It was just as blurry as the last, but this time she heard Riddle’s voice speaking. “Are you familiar with The Tales of Beedle the Bard?”  _

_ Everything faded to nothingness as a more recent memory came into view. She could hardly distinguish a single aspect of the room, but she caught a glimpse of Lestrange and clearly recognized his outfit as what he had worn on the night of their first date, when he took her to the Greenhouse and lake. Riddle and Rosier were before him as Xavier’s muffled voice said, “You really did it? You made a second one?” _

_ Riddle answered, “I did it. I’m one step closer to becoming the most powerful wizard that has ever lived.” _

_ She focused all her energy into trying to clear up the scene around them, desperately trying to see if it held any more clues to what the Horcrux could be, but the medication that Xavier had taken was making it near impossible to gain access into his mind.  _

She felt herself coming back to reality when his eyes shut closed, a soft snore immediately slipping out of his parted lips. 

_ ‘You made a second one?’ _

The words rang through her mind over and over. 

He had two of them. The monster had already created two bloody Horcruxes. 

It was a fairly recent memory, she doubted that he would have had the time to create a third. So, she found herself pleased with what she had learned. 

Only two objects stood between her and stopping Voldemort.

All she had to do was find them, and she could finally kill Tom Riddle. 


	17. Chapter 17

Avalon woke up the next morning to the feeling of the sunlight hitting her cheeks. Xavier was already awake, his forehead close to hers as he watched her shift in his arms, a smile painting its way onto his lips before he whispered a greeting to her, his voice still raspy from the night’s sleep. A part of her was anxious about how much of the night he recalled. He seemed rather calm, but did he truly not remember Avalon entering his mind? She wasn’t too sure. So, she made sure to ask him about his night. 

It didn’t take long for her to conclude that he didn’t remember anything past Madam Bardot giving him the pain-relieving potion-- it appeared as though her prying had, indeed, been erased entirely from his memory

He was in quite good spirits as he pulled her in for several short-lived kisses, whispering sweet nothings into her lips as he held her closer and closer until Madam Bardot finally came over and cleared her throat behind them, lifting the silencing charm that had remained over Xavier’s bed during the night before she told Avalon it would be best if she went back to her own room for the time being, so the Healer could do a couple of final check-ins with Xavier before discharging him from the Hospital Wing. 

The cheeky boy stole one last kiss from Avalon’s lips, earning a pointed glare from Madam Bardot, before he told his new girlfriend to be ready for the Quidditch game later that day. Avalon laughed, agreed, thanked the Healer, and began making her way out of the Hospital Wing. 

She mulled over how being in a relationship with Xavier could undoubtedly be the perfect opportunity for her to find a home within his heart and perhaps earn access into the Slytherins’ inner circle. She needed to truly be a part of their group to ensure that she could be fully trusted and sworn into their secrecy. If dating one of the boys was her best way in, then so be it.

Obviously, Xavier knew more about Tom’s plans than he let on, and she was determined to find out everything that he held stored within that mind of his. 

Two Horcruxes. Only two Horcruxes stood in the way of her and completing her mission. Between her and saving the wizarding world that she knew and loved.

As she made her way out of the room, her eyes landed on Nott, who was sitting up in Rosalie’s bed with a wide grin on his face. His blonde girlfriend was now wide awake, her cheeks flushed a soft pink and her laughter echoing through the room. Avalon couldn’t help but smile at how much happier Nott looked now that Rosalie was awake and seemingly doing well. As she looked around the Hospital Wing, she noticed that most everyone was awake and in much better spirits this morning. A couple of Healers were making rounds and checking up on the students, but it appeared nearly all the injuries had been healed overnight. Thankfully, the new day seemed to have brought a new sense of life back into the Hospital Wing that had been riddled with nerves and grief only the night prior. 

On her walk back to Ravenclaw Tower, Avalon noticed that something had shifted. Things were different-- the people that she passed by in the halls no longer avoided her eyes. They didn’t turn to their friends and whisper to each other. They didn’t move quickly to get out of her way.

A couple of students smiled at her. One even waved. 

It was as if her reputation around the school had changed overnight. She was no longer Avalon Hendrix, the violent Durmstrang transfer. She was Avalon Hendrix, the girl who fought bravely against members of the Alliance… and won.

\----

Several hours passed, most of them spent napping as Avalon realized she hadn’t had a good night’s sleep at all while cramped in Xavier’s hospital bed, before it was time to start getting ready for the Quidditch game.

The room was oddly quiet, and Avalon found herself humming a soft tune to herself as she tossed on a black dress, coat, and shoes before brushing her hair in the mirror. Zelda was still nowhere to be found, which was strange for her.

It felt odd to be getting ready for a Quidditch match without her friends. Usually, the hours before games would be spent giving pep talks to Ron in an attempt to ease his nerves, making posters while painting their faces in house colors, and exchanging friendly banter with her friends whenever Ravenclaw was playing against Gryffindor. 

She had never been too keen on sports, but Quidditch games grew to be some of her favorite memories. She wondered if this match could possibly make her feel that same euphoric feeling, but she doubted that it was possible in the absence of her friends. While she may have still been a student at Hogwarts, she was painfully aware of how she would always be an outsider in this time.

The sound of the door unlocking pulled her from her thoughts and she turned in time to see Zelda walking into their room, her curls unruly and her robes disheveled as she smugly plopped onto her bed.

“Zelda Shacklebolt, have you just done a walk of shame?” Avalon asked, trying to bite back her grin as she looked at her flushed roommate who rolled her eyes before hiding her face in her hands. 

“Oh, hush,” she said, her cheeks glowing red as Avalon giggled. “I came back to our room last night to grab some things and I noticed your bed was awfully empty, too, Miss Hendrix!”

“I spent the night by Xavier’s side. Madam Bardot had to give him Skele-Gro,” Avalon replied with a sigh.

Zelda’s face contorted into a look of pity. “I’ve heard that stuff is bloody awful.”

“I think he would agree,” Avalon said before taking a quick pause. “Also, a slight update...”

“Do tell,” Zelda said, propping herself up on her elbows.

“He asked me to be his girlfriend last night…and I said yes.”

Zelda’s jaw dropped near a meter to the floor before she burst into laughter and said, “Funny thing is, Jane asked me the same thing.”

“Z, that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you two,” Avalon exclaimed, clapping her hands together before a pout washed over her face. “Wait. Does that mean you’ll be leaving me alone on Slytherin’s side to sit with Jane and Gryffindor today at the match?” 

“Oh my,” Zelda said, laughing. “Even if I weren’t dating a Gryffindor, I still wouldn’t sit on Slytherin’s side. It’s alright, though, you’ll still have your boyfriend. Merlin, I never thought the day would come when Xavier Lestrange goes steady with anyone. I always knew you were something special, but you’ve outdone yourself this time.” Avalon rolled her eyes, but her smile lingered on her lips as she went back to getting ready. Zelda watched her closely before asking, “Is that what you’re wearing to the game?”

“I was planning on it,” Avalon replied, a sudden wave of uncertainty hitting her. “Why?”

“Last I checked, black is not a house color for Slytherin,” Zelda pointed out.

“Need I remind you that I’m not a Slytherin?”

“Today you are,” her roommate said matter-of-factly, taking out her wand and pointing it at Avalon. Her black dress turned emerald, a stripe of green painted its way into her hair, and silver stars speckled across her cheeks. Zelda let out a small chirp of satisfaction, smiling at her own work. “Much better.”

“And what of yourself?” Avalon asked, crossing her arms.

“I was getting there!” Zelda replied before flicking her wand in her own direction, painting her face with a stripe of bright red and morphing her jumper into Gryffindor’s colors. “Satisfied?”

Avalon grinned and nodded, “Very much so. You look-”

The abrupt sound of a knock cut her off. Both girls narrowed their eyes on their door, shrugging at each other, before Avalon strode over and cracked it open. 

“Hello, darl-”

She slammed the door shut in Xavier’s face, turning swiftly to speak to Zelda. “It’s Xavier.”

Zelda raised an eyebrow incredulously. “How in Merlin’s name did he get in here?”

“I don’t bloody know!” Avalon grumbled, opening the door again. 

“Not a very nice way to greet your boyfr-” he said, his words once again cut off as she yanked him into the room by his arm. He chuckled as he looked around, nodding at Zelda. “Hey, Shacks.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” Avalon asked, rolling her eyes as Xavier walked towards her bed and plopped down onto it. He was wearing a green jumper and silver scarf, his eyes curiously examining their room as he ran a hand through his perfectly tousled hair. 

“It’s nice to see you, too, love,” he grinned. 

“No, honestly, how are you even in here?” she grumbled.

“It’s incredible how many First Years will sneak you into the Common Room for a couple of galleons,” he said, shrugging.

“Lestrange, you truly are despicable,” Zelda said, holding back her own laughter.

“How’s our project coming along?” he asked slyly, earning a glare in return.

“The chalice can grow a tail and four paws now,” Zelda replied.

“Good to see we are making progress. Let’s keep it up, shall we?” he said with a wink. 

“Why you’re dating him, I will never understand,” Zelda said to Avalon. 

He began to speak once more, “Might have something to do with my incredible good looks, charming personality-”

“I don’t understand either, Z. I don’t,” Avalon said, causing her roommate to laugh and her boyfriend to pout. He patted the area beside him on her bed and she sighed before making her way over to him. He wasted no time to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her down onto his lap, stealing a quick kiss to her lips before he turned back to Zelda.

“Hey, Shacklebolt, can we get some privacy for a bit?” he asked.

“Mind you, this is  _ my _ room, too,” Zelda said, glaring at him. 

He stuck a hand into his pockets, pulling out a galleon and tossing it towards her. “Does this change anything?”

Zelda watched as the golden coin landed on her bed and picked it up hesitantly, staring at it for a moment before saying, “Maybe if you doubled it.” He rolled his eyes and pulled another one out, throwing it in her direction once more. She caught it in mid-air and grinned, stuffing the two of them in her own pocket before shrugging. “I was off to meet Jane anyway. But, thanks for the tip,” she said, standing up and walking to the door. “See you two from the winning side of the match.” She waved at them before heading out, closing the door behind her and leaving them trapped in their own isolation. 

Xavier wasted no time, tangling his fingers in Avalon’s dark hair and pulling her towards him. His lips lingered over hers for a moment, the smell of cologne and wine once again tickling her nose as he stared into her eyes. “You know,” he said before closing the gap between them and placing a soft kiss on her lips. “We could skip the match,” he muttered into her skin, his lips trailing onto her cheeks. “And just stay here,” he said, moving down and scattering a trail of feather-light kisses along her neck. “They’d never know.”

She pulled away, rolling her eyes as he flashed his lazy smirk at her and leaned backward, propping himself up on his elbows as he watched her. It came as no surprise to her, but he was an incredibly physical lover. It was as though he became a thousand times more forward-- if that was even possible-- when they made their relationship official. “You mean you’d skip out on your Euphoria tradition with Rosier?”

“Trust me, darling, it doesn’t get much more euphoric than this,” he said with a wink.

She ignored his comment and noted, “I see you’re feeling all better.”

“Better than ever,” he said, stretching out both of his arms. “Everyone was discharged from the infirmary around the same time I was. I don’t think anyone was left.”

“So Rosalie was released, too?”

“Yeah. Nott was over the moon about it. Good thing, too. Imagine if our Seeker wasn’t in high spirits today.”

“Xavier, there are more important things in life than making sure you win a Quidditch game.”

“Easy for you to say,” he said, leaning forward and pulling her towards him once more. “You’re not the one who paid for all the booze for the after-partying assuming your team would win.”

“Merlin, you need to learn to be more responsible with your money.”

He let out a light laugh before moving her hair to the side, his hot breath tickling her skin as he spoke. “I’ve learned life is a lot more fun when you live irresponsibly,” he said a moment before placing another kiss on her neck.

“Xavier-”

“Avalon,” he muttered into her skin.

“We have to go,” she said insistently, gently pushing him away.

“Must we, though?” he whined, taking her hand into his own. 

“Yes,” she laughed, standing up and pulling him with her, receiving an annoyed groan from him as he reluctantly stood. 

“Alright, alright. Whatever you say, love,” he said, giving her a tight-lipped smile as he walked over to the door and motioned towards the exit. “After you.”

\----

The crowd was already buzzing as Xavier and Avalon made their way through the bleachers, their eyes scanning the area for their friends. Students were already cheering, some were blowing horns, and it seemed as though there was a world of difference between the energy that loomed over the student body at that moment versus the day prior. Apparently, there were few things in life that could not be mended by the excitement that came along with the first Quidditch match of the year: especially one between the two most rival houses. 

They wove their way through a sea of green, though the opposite end of the Quidditch pitch was populated with an impenetrable block of red and gold. Xavier spotted Adonis and Tom sitting not too far away with Kyra and Rosalie beside them and he waved in their direction before leading Avalon over, holding her hand in his own as they scooted their way past other students and towards them.

“Make way,” Xavier said to his friends as he plopped himself down beside Tom, dragging Avalon down into his own lap with a grin. 

“Tell me you brought it,” Adonis said, poking his head forward to look at Lestrange.

Xavier reached into his pocket and pulled out the bright yellow vial of the Euphoria Elixir, tossing it over to his roommate. “Bottoms up, mate.”

Rosier grinned, twisting off the cap and grinning as he drank half of the liquid before handing it back to Xavier, who drank the remainder of the potion before casually discarding of the empty vial by throwing it forward into the bleachers, quickly looking away when it hit a younger Slytherin in the back of the head. 

The two of them shared a look before bursting into laughter, the effects of the potion kicking in nearly instantly as their smiles grew as wide as humanly possible. Rosalie looked between the two of them and shook her head. “You two are absolute idiots.”

“And here I was thinking we bonded after our shared night in the hospital,” Xavier said, pouting at Nott’s girlfriend, who responded with a roll of her eyes. 

The crowd erupted into a loud chorus of hoots and cheers as the announcer introduced the two teams, and Xavier nearly forgot Avalon was sitting on his lap as he bolted to his feet and hollered out as his friends flew onto the pitch on their brooms. She stumbled to her feet, sighing as she stood beside him, a small smile reaching her lips when she caught sight of Orion zooming by in his emerald uniform. 

Rosier clumsily pushed past Tom and Avalon, shoving her out of the way and slinging his arm around Xavier’s shoulder as Mulciber and Nott flew past them. “Those are our boys!” he shouted, his eyes glossed over with pure bliss. 

Avalon struggled to keep her balance as the two boys jumped up and down together, cheering on their friends as if they were the only two people in the bleachers. She found herself pushed to the side, closer to where Riddle was sitting, and reluctantly took the seat beside him as her ‘boyfriend’ danced atop his seat with his roommate attached at his hip.

The effects of the elixir was painfully evident as the two boys cheered for their friends at the top of their lungs. They were so loud that people several rows in front of them turned to send pointed glares their way, though neither one was conscious enough to truly notice. 

Rosalie was busy cheering on Axel and Kyra kept stealing glances towards Tom, though his attention was elsewhere. Avalon wondered where Kyra’s boyfriend was before remembering that the Head Boy typically sat with the Professors in a special section of the crowd for the first game. 

The game began as the referee blew a whistle and tossed the Quaffle into the air, quickly followed by the Snitch and Bludgers. The players on both teams took off instantly, the crowd roaring with excitement at every move.

Avalon looked towards Riddle, who could not possibly look more disinterested in the game if he tried. “I didn’t pin you as the type to come to sporting events,” she said, making him turn towards her.

“Prefects have to attend,” he said dryly. “To make sure students in the crowd don’t break any rules.”

She glanced over at Xavier and Adonis, who were busy being the greatest nuisances in the entire stadium, before raising an eyebrow at Tom. “Looks like you’re doing a bloody terrific job at that,” she said. 

“If I wrote up your boyfriend for every rule that he broke, he would have been expelled in Year Two,” he replied. It felt strange to hear Xavier be referred to as her boyfriend by someone else, especially that person being Tom. The words seemed unnatural rolling off his tongue. Something about the way his lips tugged downwards after saying the words made her think that it felt just as strange for him to say it as it did for her to hear it. 

As if on cue, Xavier and Adonis once again began singing at the top of their lungs, belting out a Slytherin fight song as Mulciber managed to score 10 points for their team when he threw the Quaffle through the center hoop, bypassing Gryffindor’s Keeper. The two boys wrapped their arms around one another and jumped up and down on the bleachers, shaking the entire row as they chanted, “Mulciber! Mulciber!”

Avalon stared at Xavier with her jaw hanging slightly agape. A smug smile found its way onto Riddle’s lips as he said, “You sure know how to pick them.”

She rolled her eyes and muttered, “At least he’s having fun. I’m surprised you didn’t show up with a textbook.”

He ignored her comment and instead turned his attention back to the two boys to their side. Adonis had bent down as Xavier climbed atop their seats and put his hands on his roommate’s shoulders. Before Avalon could even register what the two were attempting to do, Lestrange jumped onto Rosier’s shoulders, ending catastrophically as he lost his balance and the two of them went tumbling down into the row in front of them, knocking out four Second Years in the process. A chorus of grunts and groans came out of the poor kids who got swept up into their mayhem as Xavier tried to prop himself back up, using one of the younger boy’s heads as leverage as he hoisted himself back to a standing position. 

“What do you see in him?” Riddle’s words caught Avalon off guard. She turned back towards Riddle, staring at him for a moment. His tone was curious more than anything else, and his gaze was searching, as though trying to read her before she even answered. 

Xavier was many things, she thought to herself. He was, at times, arrogant, perhaps a little too full of himself, and lived with the self-righteousness of someone who had never had to work a day in his life. But, he was also charming-- more so than at times she would like to admit. He was funny, too, and served as a distraction for her from the reality that she had found herself in. Almost like a breath of fresh air in an atmosphere made of poison, he was able to give her some sort of comfort after endless uncertainty because if nothing else, she knew that at least he was infatuated by her. 

He wasn’t horrifically complex. Perhaps, what she liked most about him was that he was an open book: he didn’t hide his flaws nor did he act better than he was. What she saw was what he was: a cocky yet redeemable boy who could take her out of her head-- someone who simplified the things around her as everything grew increasingly complex. 

But, none of that mattered much. Because, truthfully, the answer to his question was that she saw a pathway to Riddle through Xavier. He was a means to an end. And since he was an open book, she intended to use him as a resource to learn more about what she needed to know: Tom Riddle and his two Horcruxes.

She knew that she could never fully trust Xavier, though. He was, after all, still one of Riddle’s most loyal companions. Whether he was just naive or genuinely agreed with Tom’s values, she didn’t know, but it was irrelevant. As much as she wanted to let herself believe that Xavier was kind-hearted, she had to remind herself that he was-- despite his charm, despite his humor, despite his likability-- still following a future Dark Wizard. 

But, still, if throughout her mission to defeat Voldemort she had to spend time with anyone, she could picture far worse options than Xavier. 

She noticed that she had paused for too long, so she quickly said, “Why do you care?”

“I’m only curious,” he replied. “I hadn’t pinned you as one to chase cheap thrills.”

She dropped her voice, making sure nobody else could hear their conversation. “Believe it or not, Riddle, some people get in relationships just because they like the other person.”

His gaze was unnervingly steady as he watched her. “And most of those people are much better than you at acting as if they like their partner.”

“Just because I didn’t fall into his bed on the first night like the others did, doesn’t mean I don’t care for him.”

“Ah, yes. You waited until the second night,” he said, a smirk on his lips as he watched her expression turn to one of annoyance. She was ready to argue with him, but her voice was cut off by an eruption of cheers from the students around them as Slytherin earned another 10 points. 

Xavier sauntered towards her, pulling a flask out of his back pocket and twisting off the cap before downing several long gulps and offering it to her, his eyes still completely entranced as he stared at her adoringly. 

She shook her head, laughing. “Wouldn’t want to drain your supply.”

“Nonsense,” he scoffed. “If you haven’t noticed by now, it’s charmed to never run out,” he said with a wink, taking another sip before locking eyes with Riddle and saying, “It’s butterbeer, promise.”

The Prefect rolled his eyes and looked towards the game, ignoring Lestrange’s blatant rule-breaking once more. Avalon let out a small laugh before taking the silver flask from his hands and drinking from it, the warm sting of the firewhiskey traveling down her throat a welcomed distraction from the dragging match.

And drag it did. Over an hour passed, the time ticking by rather slowly as Slytherin and Gryffindor continuously scored against one another. On several occasions, Nott got exceedingly close to catching the Golden Snitch, but it escaped from his fingertips time and time again. Rosalie cheered her boyfriend every time, regardless. Avalon was glad Rosalie had made a full recovery-- seeing the way Axel had reacted to his girlfriend’s injury had been a much-needed reminder of how much love people can harbor deep down. Perhaps spending so much time with Riddle was turning Avalon into a cynic, she had nearly forgotten that love like that existed. 

Throughout the game, Avalon continued taking sips from Xavier’s flask, finding it tough to watch the game while fully sober. As much as she wanted to enjoy herself, it was painful to sit there and pretend as though every single Gryffindor player didn’t remind her of her lost friends. Sitting there surrounded by the acquaintances of the person she was here to kill admittedly did not feel nearly as joyous as the times she had been cheering on her friends from the bleachers, Luna and Hermione by her side as they laughed their hearts out. 

Still, she found glimpses of joy when she watched Orion dart by on his broom, saving Nott from a Bludger on several occasions. His blond hair was a mess as the wind blew it every which way, but she could see his pearly smile even from the stands. His gaze kept straying towards the Hufflepuff section, and following his line of sight, Avalon spotted Clara in the crowd, a bright grin sprawled across her face as she watched the game with her friends surrounding her.

And, of course, the firewhiskey didn’t hurt, either. Her vision grew blurrier as the game went on and she found herself more capable of having fun the more sips she took from Xavier’s handy flask. At one point, a Gryffindor grabbed the back of Avery’s broom, an obvious foul, and the referee still didn’t stop the match. She, Xavier, and Adonis all screamed out at the top of their lungs, “Bullshit!”

Tom looked at the three of them with a mixture of annoyance and amusement on his features, shaking his head a little before watching as Avalon once again grabbed the flask from Lestrange and took another drink. Her movements were becoming choppier, and he noticed how her hazel eyes were becoming almost as clouded as her boyfriend’s, so he swiftly stole the flask from her hands, earning an angry grunt as she tried to reach for it. 

She was feisty-- her hands grappling for the confiscated flask with such a fiery annoyance that Tom had to stand up and hold the silver object over his head, which only aggravated her more as his towering figure made it near impossible for her to reach what she wanted. 

“I think you’ve had enough, Hendrix,” he said sternly, still holding the flask up in the air. 

“I swear on Merlin’s grave I’ll hex you if you don’t hand it over,” she grumbled, though her voice lacked the usual poison it was tainted with. A pout replaced her smile and she jumped up and down, trying to grab it back out of his reach, muttering a string of quiet profanities under her breath every time she hopped and missed. 

He reckoned this was the first time she was looking at him with even a trace of humor in her eyes. A part of him wanted to thank Lestrange for giving her the drink-- at least when she was intoxicated, she became less angry. He didn’t think she’d ever lose her attitude, but for the time being, it seemed as though her constant fury had subdued to a more careless normalcy. 

It was a welcomed break from her usual intolerable self. 

“Tom,” she said, earning a raised brow as he heard her call him by his first name for a change, “you fucking-”

Her voice was drowned out in a sea of cheers, however, as Nott finally succeeded in catching the Snitch, ending the match and naming Slytherin as the victors. Tom watched as her face lit up, her attention quickly shifting back to the pitch just a moment before Xavier snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her towards him, locking their lips in a celebratory snog. Lestrange’s wand shot up into the air behind them as he sent out a slew of emerald fireworks into the air, causing the younger students around them to jump up at the sounds. 

It seemed as though the drinks had worn away at Hendrix’s usual inhibitions as she buried her fingers into her boyfriend’s hair. Tom looked away, feeling inexplicably irritated before turning to Kyra and giving her a subtle look, which she quickly noticed and returned with a smirk.

He felt the flask suddenly fly out of his fingertips as it sped into Hendrix’s grasp. She smiled into her kiss the moment she felt the cool silver container enclose amid her palm, breaking away from Xavier for a second to take another sip, her eyes locked on Riddle as she drank with a cheeky grin plastered onto her lips. 

The opposing teams began to descend back to the ground and the Slytherins ran to Nott, applauding him for his match-winning play. The beaming captain looked over at his team and held the Snitch into the air, the crowd hooting in celebration as the team basked in their victory. The students were roaring in pure elation, the energy in the crowd unmatched as everyone jumped up and down, shaking the seats in a mass of happiness and excitement.

Slytherin’s team slowly made their way over to Gryffindor’s team and they shook each other’s hands as the game came to an official close. The crowd began to clear out shortly after-- the cheering continued from Slytherin’s side while the sea of red opposing them had grown awfully quiet. The lot of them began to make their way over to Slytherin’s Common Room, singing and prancing the entire way, all of them high off of the first win of the season.

Avalon wasn’t sure if the effects of the Euphoria Elixir had worn off of Xavier, yet, but it seemed as though he had returned to his usual baseline of pure intoxication as he abruptly stopped before her and bent down, motioning for her to hop onto his back. She let out a light laugh before obliging, and held onto him as he carried her piggyback-style until they arrived back at the Common Room and he finally set her back down.

She had never seen the room quite so crowded. Hoards of Slytherins and a handful of students from other houses, all of them masquerading in emerald clothes just like Avalon, were gathered in the expansive room. 

Xavier slung his arm around Avalon’s shoulders and looked around at the mass of students before shouting, “I didn’t buy all this booze just for you lot to stand there and not drink!”

A chorus of cheers once again echoed through the room as students quickly descended upon the countless bottles that were scattered around the room. Music flooded their senses, shaking the frames on the walls as the song bellowed loudly in the air. 

Xavier took hold of her hand, placing a soft kiss atop her fingers before spinning her around to the tune that was playing and grinning before he dipped her down, stealing a kiss as he kept her hovering in his arms for a moment. “I’m going to grab us drinks, alright, darling?”

She nodded and he smiled, pressing a kiss to her nose before he let her go and left to go towards a table of alcohol. Her eyes scanned the party, taking in the sights before her. Countless students were drinking out of the bottles, cheering one another on as the celebration commenced. Spirits were high, everyone riding the wave of their win.

Riddle was standing in a corner, surrounded by several students she didn’t recognize, all of them laughing as he spoke to them. His lips were twisted into a flawlessly crafted smile as he split his attention perfectly among the group, making sure none of them felt left out of the conversation. It felt unnatural to see him look so calm and collected. He even held a drink in his hands that he would sip every few moments. If she didn’t know any better, she would think he looked just like any other student-- normal, happy, and even perhaps charming.

There were times when she forgot that Riddle was so well-liked among his peers. She was so used to seeing him only in the confines of their own relationship that it slipped her mind that others still viewed him with an unrequited sense of adoration. 

His eyes landed on her, catching her lingering gaze, and a small smirk painted its way onto his lips as he took a sip from his cup. Her attention was diverted, though, when Kyra and Rosalie approached her, a cup in each of their hands as they stood on either side of Avalon.

“Hi, love,” Rosalie said. The smile on her lips seemed a lot more genuine than the first time they had met-- Avalon wondered if making things official with Xavier made the girl realize Avalon wasn’t any sort of threat to her and Axel. 

“Hello,” Avalon politely said, offering a smile in return. The alcohol in her system was still heavily hindering her thoughts, but she made sure not to let it show as she stood before the two girls.

“Quite a game, wasn’t it?” Rosalie said, making small talk.

“Yeah. The boys put on a great match,” she replied. “Props to Axel for catching the Snitch.”

“I know, he’s a phenomenal player,” the blond said, beaming.

“I’m glad to see you’ve made a full recovery after your night in the Hospital Wing,” Avalon said.

“Me too. Thankfully, Madam Bardot works wonders. I noticed you spent the night, too. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I was only there to be with Xavier.”

Rosalie nodded before she carefully chose her next words. “You and Xavier seemed quite smitten with each other at the game.”

Avalon laughed before she shrugged. “We made things official between us yesterday.”

The two girls shared a quick look before Rosalie spoke again. “I thought so! Aw, that’s quite lovely.”

Kyra was smiling, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She looked at Avalon as she took a sip from her drink then said, “So happy for you, love.” Her grey eyes were cold and her voice lacked emotion. It wasn’t hard to understand why she and Tom seemed to get along. “It’s amazing that Lestrange finally settled down with someone. I swear, he’s been with nearly every girl at Hogwarts.”

Avalon bit the inside of her cheek, trying to hide her irritation as Kyra’s smile grew a little wider, awaiting Avalon’s response. “Yes, we’re quite happy,” she said. “How is Travers?”

Kyra’s smile faltered a little bit, but she quickly regained her composure and offered a tight-lipped smile as she replied, “Renley is doing well.”

It was at this moment that Xavier sauntered back over, a drink in either one of his hands as he swerved between Avalon and the two girls and said, “Sorry, stealing my girlfriend back,” before he handed the drink to her and used his newly freed hand to guide her away from the others. He put his own cup to his lips and took a sip, his eyes lingering towards Rosalie and Kyra, who were now whispering among each other. A moment passed before he returned his attention to Avalon and smiled. “Drink up, darling.”

Both of their eyes were still glossed from their intoxication, but they continued drinking nonetheless. A few moments later, the doors to the Common Room burst open and everyone exploded into roaring cheers as the Quidditch team finally arrived. 

Avalon spotted Avery almost instantly and smiled at him, waving excitedly as he rushed over, a wide grin on his face. His hair was still wet from his post-match shower and his green jumper clung to his chest as he came and wrapped her in a hug. “You did it!” she exclaimed, returning his hug happily. 

“Merlin, I’d missed playing so much. Haven’t felt a rush like that in ages,” he said, letting her go and looking around. “This is wicked.”

Xavier held his drink out to Orion and grinned. “Bottoms up, mate. Congrats on the win.” Avery gladly took the cup from his friend’s hands and downed it in one go, shaking his head as he absentmindedly put his cup on a side-table. Avalon quickly drained her own cup before turning to Xavier and asking, “Could you get me another drink?”

“Anything for you, love,” he said, taking her cup and walking off to refill it. 

Finally alone with Orion, she grinned and nudged his shoulder. “Enjoying your victory?”

He shrugged, his eyes trailing wistfully around the room. “Kind of. I mean, obviously winning is great, but I wish I could celebrate with Clara.” He sighed, but then his eyes widened and he added, “Not that celebrating with you isn’t great-”

“I get it,” she laughed. “Is she here? I saw her at the game.”

He nodded and she was able to follow his eyes until she saw Clara in the crowd, surrounded by a couple of other Hufflepuff girls and one of the boys from the Quidditch team. “She came with her roommate, Isabella. She’s dating one of the Chasers on the team. She’s a pureblood, though, so it’s a lot easier for them, I guess,” he said, chuckling bitterly. 

“Well, lucky for you, you’re well-experienced at sneaking around. I’m sure you’ll be able to celebrate with her tonight,” she said, trying to cheer him up.

“To be fair, you have caught me about four times now,” he said with a grin. 

“I never said you were  _ good _ at it,” she replied, earning a laugh from him.

“So word around the castle is that you’re dating Lestrange now?” he said, wiggling his eyebrows at her as she rolled her eyes. “After we won, I saw the two of you getting… pretty cozy together.”

“Oh, shut it,” she laughed, lightly punching his arm. “I’ve already stumbled upon you and Clara with your tongues down each other’s throats, now we’re even.”

“Touch é ,” he said, clearly amused. 

Out of the corner of her eyes, Avalon noticed Riddle making his way towards Kyra. She watched as he whispered something into the girl’s ear, and Kyra held his gaze for a moment before excusing herself from the group and walking away. Avalon’s eyes followed the girl as she made her way out of the party and towards the boys’ dorms, disappearing into the shadows of the hallway completely.

Avalon then returned her attention to Riddle, who lifted his cup back to his lips and finished his drink before he noticed her gaze. A smirk wrote its way onto his lips as he held her gaze for a moment before he set his empty cup down and made his way over to his dorm, as well. 

“Can you do me a favor?” said Avery, breaking her out of her thoughts.

“What do you need?”

“Could you tell Clara to meet me at our usual spot in an hour?” he asked. “She’ll know where it is.”

“You got it, Romeo,” she grinned before walking over towards Clara.

When the doe-eyed girl saw her approaching, a bright smile beamed onto her face. “Avalon, it’s lovely to see you!”

“Good to see you too,” she smiled. “I come bearing a message.”

“How fun.”

She lowered her voice so the people around them wouldn’t hear her when she said, “A certain someone wants you to meet him at your ‘usual spot’ in an hour.”

Clara’s eyes darted around until they finally landed on Avery, and she shot him a shy smile. Avalon suddenly felt as though she were being watched, and she turned around just in time to see Xavier walk over and snake his arm around her, pulling her away from Clara and into a corner before she had a chance to say a proper goodbye to Avery’s girlfriend. 

She sensed slight irritation sprawled across his face, but it quickly disappeared when he handed her the refilled cup and smiled. “For you, darling.”

“Thank you,” she said, taking a sip. For once, it wasn’t firewhiskey that she tasted, but rather spiked butterbeer-- a much-welcomed change. He took her hand and led her over to a couch in the corner of the room. Rosier, Mulciber, and Avery were already sitting there on nearby chairs, chatting amidst themselves as Xavier and Avalon approached. She noticed Nott’s absence, but it seemed as though the Quidditch captain had a tendency to leave the boys to be with his girlfriend, anyway. She wished that Avery could do the same. 

They spent a decent amount of time sitting on the couches with the boys, all of them lazily knocking back drink after drink until their vision was going blurry. Their laughter echoed through the room, though it was drowned out by the music and sounds of the party raging around them. Avery left an hour later to sneak off with Clara, leaving her with Rosier, Mulciber, and Lestrange. She learned that the three of them were arguably the heaviest drinkers in all of Hogwarts and she struggled to keep up with the rate at which they kept downing their cups. 

By the end of the night, she had lost count of how many drinks she had. Spending so much time with Fred and George had, however, built up her tolerance-- she thanked their numerous nights of debauchery for her ability to drink like a sailor. Though, even her mind was hazed as she laughed the night away with her legs sprawled across Xavier’s lap as Mulciber told the same story over and over again, making them laugh more with each forgotten repetition. 

Most people had cleared out of the Common Room, leaving only a handful of intoxicated Slytherins. The vast majority of partygoers had either gone back to their own Common Rooms, gone to bed, or left to hook up with someone.

Eventually, Mulciber and Rosier both got up and left, each of them chasing after a girl and heading back to their dorms, leaving Xavier and Avalon alone together. The dark-haired boy wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her into his lap. When she turned her head to look at him, his eyes were nearly closed, and his words were slurred as he grinned and said, “How did I get so lucky with you?”

“I don’t know,” she said, a cheeky smile on her lips. “How did you?”

“I sure as hell won’t question it,” he replied before putting a hand on her cheek and pulling her towards him until their lips met. She didn’t object, her hands quickly finding their way into his curly hair, tugging at the strands and earning a low groan from him. His kiss was more feverish than usual, his hands running up alongside her body as he took her bottom lip between his teeth and lightly tugged. 

The rest of the students in the room seemed to fade away for a moment as he held her close, kissing her with every ounce of fire burning within him. His lips strayed from hers and made contact with her neck, leaving a trail of kisses alongside her skin. She felt his teeth graze her neck and pulled on his hair, making him look up at her with a dark lust in his eyes. He put his hands behind her neck and pulled her towards him, whispering into her ear, “My room.”

She immediately found herself searching for an excuse to get herself out of there as quickly as possible. As much as she was enjoying herself, the bottom line was that she was still using Xavier to get information, and she didn’t want to sleep with him for knowledge. That was the line she refused to cross. 

“Xavier, we have class tomorrow,” she said, starting to pull away.

“I don’t care,” he said, holding back a laugh as he began to lean forward for another kiss, which she dodged, much to his disappointment. 

“And that’s why I’m in Ravenclaw and you’re not,” she said lightly, removing herself from his lap to stand. 

“Darling, wait,” he grumbled, scrambling to his feet and taking a hold of her hand. “Just spend the night here. We’ll get to class in the morning.”

“I can’t, Xavier,” she said tiredly before tugging at the collar of his shirt. The gesture made him lean down and he let her plant a goodnight kiss on his lips before she took a step back and smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

He forced a smile and nodded, watching as she scurried off towards the exit and slipped out of the Common Room without another word. As the door closed behind her, he rolled his eyes and buried his head in his hands before he angrily grabbed a bottle off a nearby table and took a drink. He began making his way towards his room, his footsteps sloppy as he walked over to the open door and stood at the entrance, glaring at Rosier and Mulciber inside. 

Rosier raised an eyebrow at him. “Someone’s in a bad mood.”

“Piss off,” he grumbled, walking over towards his bed and plopping down, putting the bottle to his lips as he sunk into his mattress. 

A familiar head of blond walked in through their door, a bounce in his step as he sat down on Xavier’s desk chair. Mulciber looked towards Avery and said, “Where have you been?”

“Went out for some fresh air and got caught up having to walk some sloshed Fourth Years back to Ravenclaw Tower,” Orion answered, shrugging. “Where’s Nott?”

“Probably asleep after shagging his girlfriend in your room,” Mulciber replied, making Avery groan. “I’m surprised you still bother to ask.”

“Every time I just hope they use her room instead,” Avery sighed. “What about Riddle?”

“Speak of the devil,” Mulciber announced, nodding towards the door as Tom walked in. “Have fun with Patil?” Riddle rolled his eyes, ignoring the comment, but the other boys shared grins among themselves. “So, basically, everyone got laid tonight except Avery and Lestrange?”

Avery sighed, standing up and walking towards the door. “And that’s my cue to go to bed. Night, boys,” he said before leaving the room, leaving them bellowing in laughter. 

“And then there was one,” Rosier said smugly, their attention turning towards Lestrange who was sitting with a permanent scowl on his lips. “Quit pouting, will you?”

“You really have lost your touch,” Mulciber remarked, holding back his grin as Xavier launched a pillow at his head, only narrowly missing. “I’m honestly surprised she didn’t sleep with you after you took that jinx in the back for her in Hogsmeade.”

“I have to admit, landing yourself in the hospital to gain a girl’s favor is new… even for you,” Tom said. 

“I don’t know what more she bloody wants,” Xavier muttered. “I thought maybe she refused because we weren’t dating. Clearly, that’s not the damn issue.”

“I’m not going to lie, I didn’t think she’d be a prude,” Mulciber said, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“I didn’t either,” Xavier scoffed, irritation littered in his tone. 

“Did you see her talking to that mudblood, Bell, earlier?” Rosier asked. The disgust in his tone was more than evident, and Lestrange sighed. 

“It’s bad enough that she runs any time I invite her to spend the night, and she has to go off and embarrass me by hanging out with that lot, too,” Xavier said. “It’s like she wants nothing more than to smear my name.”

“Is she worth it, mate?” Rosier inquired. “At what point are you going to give up?”

Xavier began to speak, “I-”

But, Riddle swiftly cut him off, “The knowledge she possesses is far more important than your incessant need to get laid. Stick to it.”

Lestrange didn’t dare object, and rather just shook his head before sinking back into his bed, running a hand through his hair as he closed his eyes. He grumbled, “I swear this girl is going to be the death of me.”

Mulciber cackled before saying, “If only we were so lucky,” earning another pillow thrown at his head, this one successfully colliding with its target. 


	18. Chapter 18

“I don’t know, she just did,” Avalon grumbled, speeding her pace to try and keep up with Riddle as they made their way towards the Room of Requirement.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” he said, the frustration evident in his face. “How did Shacklebolt already figure out how to turn the goblet into a fox? I doubt that Lestrange gave her any help.”

“No, she’s been working alone,” she said. After abruptly leaving Xavier the night prior at the Quidditch party, Avalon had been worried that he would be upset with her today. But when she saw him in classes, he was back to his usual self-- spinning her around the moment he saw her and placing a kiss on her cheek every chance he got. 

“Then how did she finish the project?” Riddle asked, persistent.

“How many times do I have to say I don’t know before you get it through your head?” she groaned. “We have to figure it out. We have less than two weeks before it’s due.”

“You think I don’t know that?” he snapped back, stopping when they got to the entrance of the Room. The door appeared as they arrived, Tom having conjured it just in time for him to open the entrance and motion for her to enter as soon as they reached the wall. 

When she stepped inside, she saw the usual setup that they always had-- the couches, armchairs, table… but a small addition atop the side table near where she usually sat brought a tiny smile onto her lips. 

A record player and one singular record.

Riddle was already walking towards the table where he always sat, dropping his things atop it without another word, but she was busy examining the record atop the player. She felt a tiny bit of pride as she picked it up and noticed that it was a copy of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons: the same one she had played for him earlier. 

Usually, when they came to the Room, she would conjure the record player once they arrived and he would make it abundantly clear that he didn’t want to listen to her ‘muggle-music.’ They would bicker back and forth for a few minutes before he would give in and allow her to play it, but only if she played Vivaldi. 

But, this time, it was already there. She bit back a smile before looking towards him. He wasn’t paying her any attention, his head already buried deep into his book as he glanced between the words on the pages and the coin placed before him. It took a few moments for him to notice her watching him, and when he looked up and saw her grinning, he raised an eyebrow, confused. “What is it, Hendrix?”

“The record player.”

“What of it?”

“I didn’t have to conjure it today. It was here when we arrived,” she observed, a slight smile playing on her lips. 

“And?” he asked. “You were going to conjure it one way or another.”

“I think you secretly like my music,” she said, her smirk widening as he rolled his eyes. “Admit it! You actually enjoy it.”

“Without the music, I’m forced to listen to you incessantly tap your foot, or your quill, or the table. Unfortunately, this is preferred,” he grumbled, but his words did nothing to change her already made up mind. She had decided that he didn’t hate her music nearly as much as he wanted to let on. Never in a million years did she think Tom Riddle would be listening to muggle music, but here they were. “Are you going to do any work, or just stand there?”

She walked to the record player and put the album atop it, her smile never leaving her lips as she placed the needle onto the vinyl and began playing the music before making her way over to the table, sitting across from Riddle as she pulled out her wand and began focusing on the coin before her. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Riddle twirling his wand between his fingers. She had noticed that he had a tendency to absentmindedly weave it through his grasp when he worked, perfectly managing to balance it throughout his touch as he twirled it with ease. 

He had several habits that she had picked up on through the long days she’d spent with him in the Room: he tugged at his hair when he was frustrated, he spun his wand constantly, and he had to smooth out any bent corners on the pages of books he read. 

Despite his horrific attitude, when they were alone together, she still caught glimpses into his inherent normalcy. If she didn’t know any better, she would almost forget that this was the same boy who would one day go on to become the most dangerous Dark wizard that had ever lived. As she watched him twirl his wand between his fingers, he seemed just like any other student-- he seemed almost ordinary. 

Sometimes, she found herself thinking about how much of a waste he was. A waste of a life that would otherwise be filled with so much potential. Riddle was capable of a lot, she would give him that. He was capable of being charming, he was capable of intellect beyond most students’ abilities, and he was capable of doing the right thing-- he had proven that to her when he took her side at Hogsmeade. It was a shame that he would lose himself to the dark. 

A complete waste.

Little time had passed since Hogsmeade when she’d not had the dark-haired boy on her mind-- it was hard for her to stop thinking about why he had been so ready to jump into battle alongside her. She found herself wondering what Tom Riddle could have become had he not been destined to stray so far from his own humanity. He was a brilliant wizard, there was no denying that, and she couldn’t help but think about how he could have made an amazing addition to the Order… 

Of course, without Riddle, there would be no need for the Order to even exist. And she kept reminding herself that he was the reason for all of the pain she had experienced, all of the loss she had dealt with, and all of the hurt she had been through.

And, yet, despite all of that, he had still aided her in combat. Perhaps it was only to save face-- letting her fight alone would have surely harmed his perfectly crafted facade of a personality. And if there was one thing she knew, it was that he would do anything to protect his reputation. 

Or maybe, he was merely looking for an excuse to be able to let go of all his usual restraints and be able to truly unleash his potential in battle. He had looked so at home in the middle of the duel-- maybe he had only wanted a reason to allow himself to be freed into a warzone without the confines of a classroom setting. 

But, no matter how much she thought about it, she could never truly shake the knowledge that he had, whether she wanted to accept it or not, directly put himself in the line of a Killing Curse to protect her. She could ignore it all she wanted, but the fact of the matter was that she owed her life to Riddle.

How ironic, she thought to herself with a laugh. After Voldemort nearly being the cause of her death for years, he had finally done something good. 

Her thoughts were interrupted when she felt her wand fall from her fingers and drop onto the table. She hadn’t noticed that she had absentmindedly been attempting to mirror the way Riddle twirled his wand between his fingers. His eyes just barely glanced up at the sound, and a subtle smirk wrote onto his lips before he asked, “Copying me?”

She felt her cheeks flush as she narrowed her eyes on him, scoffing, “I didn’t realize only you were allowed to twirl a wand.”

A light laugh escaped his lips before he returned his attention back to the book before him, speaking without meeting her eyes when he said, “The key is to never let it get past your index finger.”

She rolled her eyes and flipped the page in front of her, scanning the words and hoping to find new secrets hidden amid them that could help her crack the secret of the spell they were attempting. A few moments passed, but her curiosity got the best of her when she picked her wand back up and quietly tried twirling it again, this time not letting it go past her index finger. 

She tried to bite back the smile on her lips when she succeeded, but as he paused from his reading to steal a glance at her, he was still able to catch a glimpse of the satisfaction written across her face. 

With a newfound sense of accomplishment, she pointed her wand to the coin and attempted to turn it into a living creature, once again, for what felt like the millionth time. 

But, this time, as her wand moved through the air, two tiny bird feet sprouted out of the little golden nugget and began scrambling around the table in lopsided circles. Her eyes widened as large as they could humanly go and her jaw dropped near a meter onto the floor as she stood up, her chair flying backward in her fit of elation, and she began pointing excitedly at the moving object. “Holy shit,” she said under her breath before repeating loudly, “Holy fucking shit!”

He opened his mouth to scold her for her vulgarity, but then his eyes landed on the hybrid lifeform she had created on the table and his dark eyes locked onto her as she clapped her hands together, her face bearing a grin so wide that he was sure it was making her cheeks hurt. “What did you do differently?” he asked sharply, watching as the coin ran around on the table before them. 

“I-I don’t know,” she said, still smiling to herself as she basked in her improvement. 

“What do you mean you don’t know?” he inquired, trying to mask the annoyance in his voice.

“I didn’t really do anything differently,” she admitted as she bent down and propped her chair back up. “I’m not sure what changed.”

“You have to have done something different,” he pressed. “Just think about it.”

“I am thinking about it! I swear I didn’t,” she said, the smile wiping off her face as she crossed her arms. “Maybe it just needed practice.”

“Are you insinuating that I haven’t been practicing?” 

“Merlin, you take everything the wrong way,” she grumbled, pointing her wand at the coin and turning it back into its inanimate form. She could see him wracking his own brain over the fact that he hadn’t been the one to have made the discovery, it was written all over the way his fists were clenched and his lips were tightly bound into a subtle downcast frown. “Just be happy that we made some progress.” He rolled his eyes, tugging at the ends of his curly hair as he forced his attention back to his book. She continued, “You really can’t handle being second best, can you?”

When his eyes met hers, they were strewn with a fury she had rarely seen him expose. “Excuse me?” 

“You’re such a narcissist that you can’t fathom the notion that I was the one to figure this out, correct? The thought of me being able to do something that you can’t is beyond you.”

“You can’t even begin to fathom the things that I am capable of doing. I advise you speak to me with some respect,” he hissed, slowly rising from his seat as he spoke. 

She leaned forward, placing her hands on the table between them, her gaze unwavering as she met his coffee eyes and smirked, the words dripping off her tongue as she scathingly said, “There’s nothing to respect.”

The moment the words left her mouth, Avalon felt her body fly backward as a silent force propelled her back into her chair. Tom slowly made his way over to her side of the table, bending down just slightly when he was standing behind her chair so he could speak into her ear, his voice low and threatening. “It wasn’t a suggestion.”

She sprang back to her feet and spun to face him, her angry face inches from his when she snarled, “Then was it a threat?”

“I don’t think you want to find out,” he said, his cruel smile growing as he looked down at her. 

“I am not afraid of you.”

“Then you are a fool.”

“Or perhaps you’re just not as intimidating as you think you are,” she grumbled, beginning to turn her back to him once more when she felt him grab her, his hand grasped tightly around her neck as he held her against him from behind. A shiver ran down her spine when she felt the cold drag of a knife being pressed to her back, its blade just barely grazing her skin as he ran it up the back of her uniform. For once, she didn’t dare struggle against him as her slightest movement only made him press the conjured blade closer to her flesh. 

Her fingers began to tremble and her knees grew weaker and weaker as her head spun with the memory of the hours she had spent lying face-down on a dark wooden floor as her screams rattled the walls every time her flesh was torn once more by the Death Eater’s blade. Yet, this time, there was no Death Eater.

Only Tom Riddle.

His voice was so cold that it terrified her when he spoke. “Aren’t I?”

And for once, she had nothing to say back. 

“That man in your memories…” he began as he dragged the knife up her back until it rested on the nape of her neck. She couldn’t see the sadistic smile that had etched onto his lips, but she could hear the pleasure in his voice when he finished, “He missed a spot.”

She wanted to scream. She wanted to shout at him at the top of her lungs. She wanted to turn around and punch him in his sorry face. 

She wanted to blast a flash of bright green right into his chest.

But she was frozen. 

Her heart was beating so rapidly in her chest that she could nearly feel it in the back of her throat. There was an uneasy pit of nausea in her stomach, but she couldn’t even focus on that-- all she could focus on was the blade pressed to her neck. She hadn’t ever expected better from Riddle, and yet still, he had found a way to disappoint her. 

He pressed the blade harder and harder against her skin and smiled to himself when he finally saw her body tremble beneath him, her terror evident in the way she was shaking against his touch. Just as she thought that the blade was going to pierce into her flesh, she felt its pressure disappear from her body as he stepped back, drawing the knife away from her before he said, “Seemed quite intimidated to me.”

Her words still failed her-- she was shocked into a silence. No matter how hard she tried to wrap her head around what had just happened, she could not believe that he-- even he-- could possibly stoop so low. When the blade left her skin, her fear left with it and was instead replaced by a rising pit of anger that began to burn with the force of a million raging wildfires.

“You’re all talk, Hendrix,” he laughed as he held the knife in his hands, glancing between its silver blade and her neck. “That’s your problem, isn’t it? You’re incapable of keeping your mouth shut, even when it’s in your best interest.” He paused for a moment before he spat out, “That’s probably why you were given those bloody scars in the first place.” He noticed the way she clenched her fists and how her entire body tensed when he talked about her scars. She always froze whenever he spoke of them. And, today, he wanted to press her until she was at her breaking point. “Maybe if you could control your own emotions, your back wouldn’t be so-”

Before she could even control herself, she turned around, shoved him back, and shouted, “I have them because of you!” She watched the smile linger on his lips as he awaited her outburst. A flash of panic struck her as she realized what she had just said, and she quickly began to backtrack her own words when she added, “I got them because of people like you and your friends who believe in the disgusting fucking ideologies that drive your pathetic life.”

It was as though a lightbulb finally went off in his mind as he connected the dots. 

Traitor… It finally made sense.

“So you’re a blood traitor?” he said, amusement in his tone as his satisfied grin grew wider with the knowledge that he had finally gotten her to spill one of her own secrets. The only time he could see her true colors was when she was angry-- and at that moment, she was harboring so much rage within her that he could practically see her eyes darkening in real-time as she stared him down. Finally, whether she wanted to or not, he was getting her to tear down her own walls and give him peaks into who she truly was. 

“I know muggle-born witches and wizards who are ten times the person you will ever be,” she snarled, her hazel eyes livid as she glared at him. 

“You were carved for those beliefs and yet you still defend mudbloods?” he hissed. “Are you really that dense?”

She couldn’t help but laugh, and the sound of it almost caught him off guard. “Dense? Dense?!” Her laughter rang through the room, the sound maniacal and crazed as she narrowed her eyes on him and snarled, “You’re a half-blood preaching about blood purity, and yet I’m the dense one?” She saw his grasp tighten on the knife he was holding, the veins on his hands becoming more and more prominent as his hold on the sheath became stiffer. For a moment, she swore she saw his coffee eyes flash crimson as he stared daggers in her direction. His jaw was clenched so hard that she knew it must be paining him to hold his tongue, but at the same time, she knew there was nothing he could say. 

He was angry-- and she wasn’t even done yet. 

“You’re so bloody insecure about your own damn self that you’ve pushed your self-hatred into a hatred for all muggle-borns and forgotten that you’re just like them.” She rolled her eyes, beginning to walk to the exit. The tension in the room was growing to become too much for her and she didn’t want to stay in his company for a second longer. “Do you honestly think your own friends would accept you if they knew the truth about you?” As she got to the door, she placed her hand on the knob before momentarily looking over her shoulder and adding, “It’d be a shame if they found out, wouldn’t it?”

Tom didn’t even think about his next move-- it happened before he could register what was happening, driven by an insatiable fit of pure rage. His arm shot out and he threw the knife at her, a wave of seething anger coursing through his body as he watched it rip through the air and lodge into the door, just inches away from Avalon’s head. She flinched when the blade struck the wood, her breathing uneven and unsteady as she glanced back at him and hissed, “You missed,” before opening the door and storming out. 

Tom was left alone in the room, his fists clenched so tightly that they were growing white with each passing minute. As an unsettling quiet settled around him, the only sound that punctured the air was the white noise of the needle reaching the end of the record, enveloping him in nothing more than his rage and the lingering ghost of Hendrix’s scathing words. 


	19. Chapter 19

Tom watched Avalon leave the room just a moment before he shoved all the books on the table onto the ground with an angry push. His breathing was rapid and shallow as his fervent eyes scanned the room. 

The bloody record player was buzzing out a subtle line of white noise, but the sound was deafening to him: it only made him think of Hendrix. He flicked his wand in its direction and it went flying off the table, clattering onto the ground with a loud thud as it broke unevenly across the newly scratched floor. 

Watching it crack to pieces fueled an odd combination of satisfaction and uneasiness within him, and he wasn’t sure why, which only made him angrier. He slashed his wand through the air and the chairs at the table were strewn across the room, landing brutally against the bookshelves along the walls and sending dozens of books crashing to the ground. 

He felt like an animal gone berserk, but he had lost his desire to contain himself. 

Never before had he allowed himself to run so rampant. And at that moment, he didn’t give a damn about holding back.

He had spent years carefully crafting a calm and collected persona-- a flawlessly designed facade that he had used to charm everyone around him into doing as he wished. Time had turned him into an expert actor and he had become quite good at using that to his advantage. There had not been anybody that he had met who he’d not been able to control.

Until he met Hendrix.

This came out of nowhere and with no warning, and yet, in the short period of time that she had entered his life, had already managed to mangle any sense of control he thought that he had. She possessed an unbreakable tenacity that was not prone to manipulation. It was as though she saw through every persona he tried to portray and instead saw him for exactly what he was: and even he wasn’t entirely sure what that was. 

When he had pressed the knife to her back, he had been overtaken by a relentless need to finally wipe that bloody smile off of her face. And, that was the first thing he thought of. It had been almost instinctual, and it bothered him how she was able to get under his skin so much that he lost control of his usual self-restraint when he was around her. 

She tore down everything that he had been building up throughout his entire life-- and he fucking hated it. 

But, what he hated more was the feeling of disquietude that lingered in the pit of his stomach when he felt her freeze at the feeling of his knife on her neck. He had thought that he would feel satisfaction-- he had finally gotten her to crack under him. She was horrified, and he could sense it from the way her body trembled beneath him. 

So why hadn’t it felt like a victory?

  
  


Avalon paid no mind to the students in the halls as she scrambled through the castle, desperate to get as far away from the Room of Requirement as she could, hot tears of frustration falling down her cheeks as she briskly walked through the castle’s dark corridors. 

The space was abundant, yet she felt suffocation creeping into her lungs, anxiety overtaking her weary heart while she fumbled towards the Great Hall. Her fingers grappled frantically with her collar, her tie suddenly feeling as though it were choking her as her heart beat like a raging war drum. 

It was still dinnertime, and she suddenly felt an unwavering need to go towards the place she thought might house some of her friends. Her fingers were still trembling as she shoved her way past other students, bursting into the Great Hall and looking around with fervent eyes. 

She spotted Zelda sitting at the Ravenclaw table, but to her side sat Jane. The two of them were laughing and smiling and looking at each other with such an untainted sparkle in their eyes that she didn’t have the heart to tear them apart. Her eyes kept scanning the room, this time straying towards the area where the Slytherin boys typically sat. Xavier was nowhere to be seen, though she knew he had detention with Merrythought as punishment for skipping class again-- not that Lestrange was her first choice for comfort, anyway.

When her eyes finally landed on Avery, she was relieved to see him sitting alone at the end of the table, absentmindedly stuffing a dinner roll into his mouth as he scanned the pages of a book before him, scratching his head as he attempted to complete his homework while he ate. She walked over, her pace so quick that she nearly tripped over her own feet before she reached him, tapping him on the shoulder the moment he was at arm’s length. 

He turned around slowly, evidently expecting to be greeted by one of the boys as he looked at her with a mouth still full of bread. When he noticed her, he quickly grabbed his cup and took a large sip of water, gulping down his bite before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and smiling. “Hello!” he greeted her before finally taking note of the tears spilling down the side of her face. “Oh dear…” Without a moment of hesitation, he shoved all his belongings into his bag and slung it over his shoulder before standing up and wrapping his arms around her, enveloping her shaking figure into the warmth of his embrace. His body hid hers from the curious stares of their peers as he led her towards the exit, whispering to her, “It’s okay. It’s going to be alright,” as they made their way out of the bustling Hall.

He looked around, trying to find a place where they could talk in private, though every corner of the castle seemed to be home to another set of prying eyes. So, he took her outside, gently squeezing her shoulders every few moments as he led them towards the shore of the Great Lake. He filled the silence with his own voice, constantly reminding her that he was there for her, but her thoughts were so loud that she could barely hear the reality around her.

Every part of her brain was on fire with the feeling of Riddle’s blade pressed to her back. Memories of her screams that ricocheted off the walls when her flesh was pierced by the knife of the Death Eater haunted her ears, deafening her senses until Avery’s voice was nothing more than background noise to the harrowing sounds that plagued her own mind. 

When they arrived at the Lake, the sun was just beginning to set, it’s last dying rays scattering through the leaves of the trees up top. Orion wasted no time sitting down on the ground, gently guiding her to follow suit. His arms never left her shoulders as he pulled her tightly against him and stroked her hair, allowing her to let out a few choked cries as he held her. “It’s okay,” he kept repeating, though there was a hint of uncertainty in his own voice, too, as he watched her crumbling before him. 

She hated that she was crying-- and over Riddle, at that. She hated that she was letting herself fall apart. She hated that she couldn’t shake the memories that reminded her of the horrors she had endured. 

And, Merlin, she hated that a part of her had been so naive to believe that even Riddle wouldn’t have stopped to that level. 

He let out a small sigh of relief as her body began to revert back to stillness, the trembling coming to a halt as he pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head. “You only have to tell me what’s wrong if you want to,” he said, his voice gentle. 

The words spilled out of her mouth before she could even think about them. “I hate him.”

“Lestrange?” he asked, trying to hide his sudden anger. He had always thought that she was far too good for Xavier-- the thought of him being the cause of her pain ignited an aggravation within him that sparked immediate thoughts of all the profanities he would yell at Lestrange if he found out he’d done anything to hurt her. 

She shook her head, but didn’t have the heart to force herself to say  _ his _ name. It almost reminded her of the way they had been so bloody afraid of uttering his name for years. His wretched name. The goddamn name he had given himself.

Voldemort. 

“Riddle,” she blurted out, suddenly refusing to be afraid of any measly name-- there was no way in hell she would give him that power over her.

“Are the two of you still working on that project together?” he asked, earning a curt nod. He paused a moment, then said, “I find it hard to believe all of this is over an academic disagreement, though.” She stared blankly at the Lake before her, her head lulling to the side and resting on his shoulder as she let out a tired sigh. Her silence worried him, and he quietly asked, “Did he hurt you?”

The answer was no, but it felt like a lie to say. He hadn’t hurt her-- not in that way at least-- but he would have if he needed to. She didn’t doubt that, not anymore. All those hours spent wondering why Riddle had fought alongside her at Hogsmeade faded to nothingness. Perhaps the only reason he had saved her from death is because he wanted to be the one to do the honors. 

“No,” she finally muttered. “Not exactly.”

“What do you mea-”

“He’s ignorant, cruel, heartless… he doesn’t care for anyone but himself and he’ll stoop to such lows to make sure he gets the last word. I cannot deal with him any longer,” she said, her voice cracking under the strain of her incoming tears as she added, “I can’t.”

“Ava,” he sighed. “You are one of the brightest witches I have ever met, kinder than most, and have a heart of gold. Please don’t allow someone like him to take that away from you.”

She met his eyes before she spoke. “You once told me that you believe that there is good in everyone. Do you honestly believe that?”

“I do,” he said wearily after a short pause. “And, trust me, sometimes I meet people that genuinely make me question it, but ultimately, I do believe that.”

“Why?” she asked. 

“Because the alternative scares me, I suppose,” he said, a somber laugh escaping his lips. “I mean, I get that there are people out there who do bad things, but I don’t know if there are inherently bad people. I don’t particularly want to justify anything that they do, but I sometimes wonder if I’d do the same if I were put into their situation.” He looked wistfully towards the water before adding, “I think people do the best with the cards they are dealt. Some of us get worse hands than others, I suppose.”

“They always have a choice,” she pointed out. “They just choose evil.”

“They may not realize that they’re choosing evil, though. To someone like us, it may be obvious, but they might not see it the same way we do.”

“Just because they don’t realize it, doesn’t mean that the act itself isn’t wrong.”

“Perhaps they never had anyone to show them what is right,” he shrugged. “I think it is easy to cast judgement when light is all you’ve ever known, but I try to see the other side, too, and wonder who I’d be if I had never known love.”

Visions of her friends danced in her mind. Losing so many of them had been the most painful thing she had ever had to endure-- it had hurt so bad that it made her torture seem like child’s play. But, she thought that she was, in a sense, luckier than most. At least she had people that she loved so dearly, so deeply, that it made losing them that much more unbearable.

“Hendrix!”

Her body tensed in Avery’s hold when she heard his voice. 

She didn’t want to turn and see him. She didn’t want to have to face him. She didn’t want to have to speak to him. She didn’t want anything to do with him. 

But, as she heard his footsteps approaching, she really just didn’t want him to see the dried stains on her cheeks where the tears he had caused had spilled. 

Orion sprang to his feet, quickly putting himself between Tom and Avalon and walking over to the Prefect, physically holding him back from nearing her. “I think it’s best you leave her alone right now.”

“Out of my way, Avery,” Tom snarled, attempting to shove his way past Orion, yet growing aggravated when the blond pushed back and kept him from making any progress. A part of him was confused why she had run to Avery. Their friendship never failed to stump him. 

“She needs space, mate,” Orion protested, trying to keep his voice level as he carefully navigated the tone of the conversation. He was no fool-- he knew better than to offend Riddle. 

“Hendrix, quit being a child. We have to get back to work,” he said, ignoring Avery’s hold on him and calling out towards her anyway. 

She finally turned to look at him as she propped herself off of the ground, arms crossed as she walked over towards the two boys. She made sure to stand behind Orion, still needing his added space between them, but her eyes were not shy from staring into Riddle’s dark gaze. 

Tom had thought that maybe her anger would have subdued by the time he found her. He had been entirely mistaken-- she looked even angrier than she had been when she left. Though, as she neared him, he noticed the small dried rivers that had banked atop her cheeks where her tears had evidently dripped. 

“Don’t you dare come near me again, understood?” she snarled with so much conviction in her words that it made both boys slightly raise their brows.

“You’re being irrational,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “We have to finish-”

“I’ll do it without you. I don’t bloody need you,” she hissed through gritted teeth, her voice scathing. “So fuck off.” 

“Hendrix-”

“I said  _ fuck off _ ,” she growled. “I will not repeat myself again.”

He opened his mouth to object, but something about the way she was glaring at him convinced him that it was best to let her cool down for a bit. He let out a huff of annoyance and sent one cold look at Avery, but ultimately decided to drop it for the time being. 

So, for the first time in his life, Tom willingly did as he was told. 

And left.


	20. Chapter 20

Avalon sat atop her bed in her dorm. Tom sat in the Room of Requirement.

She pointed her wand at a galleon. He pointed his wand at the coin. 

They each concentrated on the objects before them and uttered the spell.

“Fuck,” they muttered when nothing changed.

Tom glared at the coin in front of him. He was sick of having to look at it. It was as though it mocked him every time he looked at it. 

He had never struggled so much with a project before and it was killing him. There was a nagging voice in the back of his head that kept wondering if Hendrix had made any more progress than he had. 

It had been an entire week since she had spoken to him. The last time she had even looked in his direction was when she had told him to leave when he found her and Avery by the Great Lake. 

He tried to catch her eye during classes, but she would keep her gaze focused on either Lestrange or the professor. After the lesson, she’d take her boyfriend by the wrist and drag him out with her before Tom could even get a chance to approach her. When he saw her during meal times, she made sure to never be sitting alone: either Shacklebolt, Lestrange, or Avery always accompanied her wherever she went. It was near impossible to find a moment where he could speak to her in privacy, and the few times where she was alone, she made sure to avoid him at all costs. She even spent several nights in Lestrange’s room and Tom could hear them laughing as he walked by. He’d make sure to be in the Common Room in the morning when she would sneak out before the others woke up, but the moment he tried to talk to her, she would look the other way and keep walking until she slipped out without a word. 

Every time, he debated running after her and forcing her to talk to him so he could figure out where they stood on the bloody project, but even he knew that the last thing he needed was to make her even angrier at him. 

So, he gave her space. 

But, with only three days left until the project was due, he was growing more and more antsy with each passing day. And he didn’t care how much space she needed, or how mad she still was at him-- he had to talk to her.

He found out from Lestrange that Hendrix had Herbology during the time when he had a break in his schedule, so he made his way to the Greenhouse quickly and quietly, shoving past the other students on the castle grounds. When he arrived, he tried not to think about whether or not this was a good idea and instead just opened the door and walked in.

Every set of eyes in the class turned towards him, including the Professor. 

“Ah, Mr. Riddle,” the old man said with a smile. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”

“Sorry to interrupt your class, Professor,” he said politely. “Headmaster Dippet wishes to see Miss Hendrix in his office and asked me to come fetch her.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hendrix shift uncomfortably in her seat. She leaned towards Shacklebolt and whispered something into her ear, shaking her head and rolling her eyes as he finally looked towards her. 

“I see,” the Professor nodded. “Miss Hendrix, you may be excused.”

“Oh goody,” Avalon grumbled under her breath, grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder as she trudged towards the door, purposely hitting Riddle with her bag as she walked by. 

She opened the door and walked out, not bothering to hold it open for him and instead let it start to slam in his face as he picked up his pace to match hers. Annoyance flashed across his features, but of course she didn’t see it-- she still refused to look his way.

They walked in a tense silence for a few moments until they were far enough from the Greenhouse for her to speak up. “Dippet doesn’t actually need to see me, does he?”

“This was the only way I could get you alone,” he grumbled. “You’ve been avoiding me all week.”

“Oh, really? Hadn’t noticed,” she sneered.

He tried to stay as civil as he could when he asked, “Have you made any progress with the project?”

She let out an exasperated groan. “Bloody hell. Tell me you didn’t pull me out of my class just to ask me that.” For the first time in a week, she finally locked eyes with him, only to read his expression and look for any hint of a joke. When she saw he was serious, she scoffed, “You’re mental.”

“Excuse me for wanting to know how it’s going,” he said, growing agitated once more. 

“Well, I suppose I don’t have to ask you how your progress is going. If you’d made any, you wouldn’t be pestering me,” she said, her lips pulled into a tight scowl. 

“Are you going to answer the question or not?”

She crossed her arms and glared at him for a moment before saying, “I’ve made progress.”

“You know you’re a terrible liar,” he muttered, making her eyebrows furrow into an even deeper set frown. “We have three days, Hendrix. We have to work this out.”

“I told you,” she hissed. “I don’t need you. I intend on figuring it out on my own.”

“Well you’re doing a shit job at that so far,” he snapped. The second the words left his mouth, he knew that he had pissed her off… again. 

Speaking with her was like constantly walking on a tightrope over a deep black abyss. One wrong step and he knew he would be falling aimlessly into a void. 

She turned on her heel and began walking away but he quickly chased after her, saying, “Let’s just finish the bloody project and we can go back to never having to talk again. Isn’t that what you want, anyway?”

“Why don’t we just skip to that part right now?” she said, a plastic smile on her lips as she waved sweetly to him and sarcastically said, “Now if you’ll excuse me, word on the street is I have to go talk to the Headmaster.”

She turned back around and continued walking, leaving him standing there with an unnerving pit in his stomach -- he had fallen off the tightrope once more. 

\--------

“Still no luck?’

Avalon sat atop her bed, staring wistfully at the galleon in front of her as her wand remained pointed at the small golden coin. She looked over at Zelda, who had just entered their room after a long day of studying at the library, and sighed. “Still no luck.” Her curly-haired roommate strode over and looked over Avalon’s shoulder, staring at the coin inquisitively, tapping her chin as she thought. Avalon groaned and plopped backward onto her bed, tossing her wand onto the mattress in exasperation before saying, “I don’t understand. I almost had it last week. It grew little feet and ran around atop the table and now…nothing! It’s like I’ve gotten bloody worse at it!” Zelda tried to hold back a light laugh and Avalon playfully smacked her roommate’s hand, muttering, “It’s not funny, Z!”

“I know, I know,” she said, though a smile lingered on her lips. “It’s just a little bit amusing to watch the two most stubborn students at Hogwarts struggle with an assignment for once,” she said, pausing before adding, “Especially Riddle.”

Avalon rolled her eyes and sighed. “He’s an absolute pain to work with.”

“And yet the two of you do make a powerful duo. I mean, remember Hogsmeade? The two of you were unstoppable together. I think that’s why I’m so surprised you haven’t gotten the spell to work, yet.” She picked up the coin and stared at it. “Don’t worry, though. Dumbledore assigns this project every year and almost nobody actually completes it. Last I heard, Xavier and I as well as one other pair are the only two to have gotten it to work.”

“I don’t care much about the assignment, truthfully. I mainly just want to do it before Riddle manages to.”

“And I’d also love to see you do it before he manages to,” Zelda said. “You can’t think of anything you did differently that one time you got the spell to almost work?”

She thought about it, she really did. But, no matter how many times she wracked her brain trying to come up with an answer, she was left drawing blanks every time. “No, I really can’t,” she admitted dejectedly.

“I know you don’t want to hear this but-”

“Don’t say it-”

“Maybe you should just go work with him again,” Zelda said, ignoring the annoyed groan that left Avalon’s lips. “If you want to finish the project so badly, I hate to say it but it seems as though the only real progress you’ve made has been with him. Perhaps the two of you need to work together again and sort it out.” Avalon wanted to tell her friend the full extent of what Riddle had done so Zelda would understand her reluctance to work with the boy, but she sighed and kept her mouth shut. “I think you’re both more than capable of doing it. Just go meet up with him.”

She narrowed her eyes on Zelda and mumbled, “I told you not to say it.”

Zelda just laughed. “I’m sorry! I’m just saying the truth. Now, go!” Avalon groaned again, and Zelda teased, “Stop wailing, you sound like a mandrake.” She pushed at Avalon’s shoulders, motioning for her to get up. “Off you go!”

Avalon sat back up and shot Zelda a knowing look. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to get rid of me.”

A look of embarrassment crossed her roommate’s face as she said, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Zelda Shacklebolt, are you trying to kick me out so you can sneak Jane over?” Avalon asked, a laugh bellowing out of her chest as she saw Zelda bury her head in her hands and attempt to hide the deep rosiness that had flushed across her face. “Sneaky girl!”

“Oh, hush. I left when you and Xavier wanted to be alone and snog in here,” she protested.

“I’m going, I’m going,” Avalon giggled, picking up her things and shoving them into her school bag. “Tell Jane I said hi.”

“You’re the best,” Zelda called out as Avalon walked out the door.

“I know!” she replied over her shoulder before exiting the room and walking down the hallway, making her way out of the Common Room and down the stairwell until she found herself in the castle’s main grounds. 

She began to make her way over to the library, less than enthusiastic to continue working on the project yet desperate to figure it out before her partner did. There were plenty of students still out, and a couple of Ravenclaws waved at her as she walked by. 

As she turned a corner, she was greeted by the familiar face of her Transfiguration Professor. After Riddle, Dumbledore was probably the last person she wanted to have to speak with at that moment. 

“Ah, Miss Hendrix,” he said, a glimmer in his eye as she smiled at her. “How are you this evening?”

“I’m well,” she said politely. “And yourself?”

“Quite alright,” he mused, drawing his words out with the same airy tone she had grown so used to hearing. “Where are you off to?”

“The library, sir. I do have a project due, after all,” she replied.

He nodded, a smile lingering on his lips. “Of course. You and Mr. Riddle. I must admit, you two may be the pair I’m most keen to see progress from.”

“I hate to disappoint, sir, but we have yet to make any.”

“You are both very diligent students. I assume you’ve been doing your research on the proper way to cast the spell?”

“We’ve nearly cleared the library’s resources.”

“Then I’m sure you know the key to this kind of magic is not only to perfect the technique, but also to grasp-”

“The gravity of the life that you are creating,” she said, cutting him off. “With all due respect, sir, I’m aware.”

He nodded, his ever-present smile still plastered across his wise face as he said, “Of course. Someone as bright...” he paused for a moment before adding, “...and experienced as yourself surely understands the sanctity of the gift that is life. You are an intelligent young witch, Miss Hendrix. And you have a good heart. I have no doubt that grasping the worth of each life should come quite naturally to you, am I correct?”

Her head bobbed up in an absentminded nod, but her mind was suddenly swamped with the image of bright green flashing out of her wand. Four times. Four faceless Death Eaters. 

And she would soon add a fifth.

She also couldn’t think about it for too long. Truthfully, a part of her was scared of her own capabilities-- she could look people in the eyes and watch as they fell dead before her as green embers sparked out of her own wand. 

She had seen so much death. She had seen her friends die. Her family die. Her classmates die. Her professors die. Her friend’s families die. 

She had seen everyone she loved die. And each time, it hurt more than the last.

But, not when it was the death of those who had hurt her. She thought about how she had stepped over their bodies after they had fallen lifeless onto the ground. It hadn’t phased her at all. In fact, she had smiled after each one, merely adding them to her personal scoreboard of vengeance. It felt like justice had been served because to her, they had been worthless. 

“Every life has worth, Miss Hendrix,” Dumbledore said, a knowing look on his lips as he bowed his head in her direction and said, “I look forward to seeing you in class,” before he walked away, leaving her standing alone in the corridor.

She wondered how the man always seemed to know exactly the right things to say, even if his so-called wisdom sometimes left her grappling with even more questions than she’d had before.

She stood in the hallway for a few moments, pondering the words of her Professor before she finally came back to her senses and started back on her path towards the library. Her movements became slower, though, as she replayed the conversation over in her head. 

With a huff of annoyance, she turned around and changed her course. Her feet began dragging her towards the Room of Requirement, though each step became more and more laborious the closer she got. She knew that she couldn’t avoid him forever-- after all, she was only in this time to learn how to kill him. Yet, still, the thought of having to spend time alone with him, again, made her heart sink.

When she finally got to the location of the Room, she had to stand outside for a few moments, mentally bracing herself to step inside. When the door appeared, she reached for the handle, but her hand lingered on the knob before she twisted it-- she could hear Vivaldi’s music playing inside.

Her grasp turned the knob and she wiggled the door open, but as she stepped inside, the music had stopped and Riddle looked up at her, sitting at his usual spot at the table with the fireplace burning behind him. His hair was a tousled mess-- he had evidently been tugging at it in his frustration for quite some time. His typically perfect posture was instead dejectedly bent over the slew of books scattered before him, as well as a couple littered on the ground. All he did was watch her with an unnerving stare when she silently entered the room, a tense quiet enveloping them as she made her way begrudgingly towards the couch and set her things down. 

“About time you showed up,” he muttered, his raspy voice exhausted when he spoke.

“You look like shit,” she retorted without even looking at him. He rolled his eyes but bit back a small ounce of amusement-- it appeared that the usual Hendrix was back. “So I see you’ve gotten nowhere.”

“Judging by the fact that you’re back, I could say the same for you,” he replied.

“Not by choice,” she grumbled. “My roommate was having a visitor.”

“And yet you could’ve gone to the library,” he pointed out, earning an annoyed stare from her.

“If I do recall, you’re the one who pulled me out of class to beg me to work with you again, so do you want to get this done, or not?” 

He scoffed and said, “I hardly begged.”

“Seemed an awful lot like begging from where I was standing,” she shrugged, sprawling out on the couch. She eyed the record player-- Vivaldi’s record still spinning atop it, though the needle was lifted up. Her gaze fell to Riddle, but he gave her a look that almost dared her to say something about it, and she chose to let it slide for once. 

_ Every life has worth, Miss Hendrix.  _

The words rattled around in her brain. She knew Dumbledore was a smart man-- possibly one of the greatest wizards that had ever lived-- and yet even he could be wrong. Harry’s death was proof of that much. 

She wondered if the future-Headmaster would still be saying these things to her if he knew the extent to which Riddle would one day defect. Every life had worth, sure, she thought. However, perhaps not every life was worth enough to salvage.

Dumbledore had told her originally that there are ways to change a path without burning a road. Those words had found a parasitic home within her thoughts, though as she watched the dark-haired Prefect before her, she couldn’t help but wonder if someone like him could ever be changed.

There were glimpses of humanity in him, she saw it from time to time. But, was that enough? She had decided that it wasn’t. And she tried, she really did, to see things from his perspective. She tried to think about a world where she was in his shoes-- yet time and time again, no matter how hard she thought about it, she could never envision any circumstance in which she would justify the things that he would one day do. 

But, still, she couldn’t shake the uneasiness she suddenly felt in the pit of her stomach as she watched him. It bothered her how he looked so inherently normal, just like any other student. He was dressed in a uniform, much similar to her own except adorned with green instead of blue. His hair, though tousled from the hours he had spent evidently tugging at it, was still sitting in subtle waves atop his head, and his eyes, dark as the night sky, were scanning the pages with nothing more than a sense of desire for intellect. If she didn’t know any better, she would have forgotten that he and Voldemort were one and the same.

They shared virtually no semblance of one another.

She had seen Voldemort in the flesh: he was gruesome to look at. His flesh was the color of a rotting corpse, his eyes demonic glimpses into a soulless self, and his face disfigured to the point of lacking any sense of humanity. Riddle was, as much as she hated to admit it, a handsome boy. It was as though all of the beauty he lacked in his soul was instead compensated for on his outward appearance. 

Once more, she found herself thinking of how much of a wasted human he would one day be. 

They each began attempting the spell, though from the lack of celebration that followed, it was obvious that neither was making any sort of progress. A tense silence masked the room, and had it not been for the sound of him incessantly flipping the pages of the book before him, she would have lost her mind in the quiet. Regardless, she began tapping her foot on the arm of the couch. 

He watched her lying atop the couch. As stubborn as she was, he found himself relieved that she was finally back. He had always preferred to work in the silence, but for some reason the quiet of her absence had been more distracting to him than her foot tapping had ever been.

The sound of her own stomach growling burst Avalon out of her own clouded thoughts, and she quickly glanced up, hoping Riddle hadn’t heard the sound. Much to her displeasure, he was staring at her with a slight upward tilt in his lips. “You should go eat,” he said. 

“Have you eaten yet?” she asked. He shook his head and she frowned. “Why not?”

“Because I am not particularly hungry,” he shrugged before adding, “And I feel as though it would be a waste of my night considering how little time we have to complete this project.” She bit the inside of her cheek, trying to hide her irritation, as well as her hunger, as she dove back into her book. “Hendrix, go eat.”

“I am not particularly hungry,” she repeated, a slightly mocking tone to her voice.

“You have got to be the most stubborn person I have ever met,” he grumbled.

“I haven’t the slightest clue what you mean,” she said, making him roll his eyes and return his attention to the task in front of him. A few moments passed before he glanced back at her, and a small smile found its way onto his lips when he noticed her absentmindedly twirling her wand between her fingers. 

Several hours passed, filled with very little conversation, even less movement, and virtually no improvement. Time ticked by slowly and being confined within the walls of the Room of Requirement made the freedom of the outside world seem like a figment of their own imagination. 

Avalon found it became harder and harder to keep her eyes open. Every few moments, she would feel her focus begin to drift off as the pages of the book she held would blur into indistinguishable shapes and figures, the words blending into illegible tidbits of useless knowledge. 

She kept glancing over at Riddle who, despite having his fingers permanently tangled into his own tousled hair, seemed to show no signs of slowing down any time soon. His eyes were still wide awake, and as he flipped page after page and kept attempting the spell over and over, she saw no hint of exhaustion seep out of him. 

The flickering flames of the fireplace beside where Riddle sat lit up the room with a warm glow, casting a subtle shadow across his face and contouring along his features. His focus was exclusively glued to the book before him, though every few minutes he would outstretch his arms behind him, the fabric of his shirt pressing against his chest as he moved, before tilting his head towards the ceiling, taking in a deep breath as he tried to quell his nerves. The muscles in his jaw were tense, and she reckoned she had never seen him look quite so frustrated. 

He caught her watching him, and had she not been quite so exhausted, she would have looked away. But, her exhausted stare met his, and he sighed. “Go to bed. We can work early tomorrow before class.”

Her voice was uncharacteristically soft when she yawned out, “Will you be retiring to bed soon?”

“I am not tired,” he said, before adding, “But you clearly are. Go on.” She let out an exasperated huff before returning her attention to the book before her, though her head was barely able to stay upright for more than a few moments before he saw her lull back to the side. “Hendrix, go to bed.”

“No,” she grumbled, her eyes barely open.

“You won’t be productive like this. Get rest and-”

“I’m fine,” she said, cutting him off with a glare. It was no secret that she was tired, even she had to admit that she was doing a terrible job at hiding it-- but she would be damned if she caved before Riddle did. So, she just stretched out on the couch and put her book on the pillow in front of her, pretending to read while she attempted to keep her eyes open. 

Tom stared at the coin before him, tugging at the ends of his hair as he wondered why the bloody thing wouldn’t change into what he wanted it to. He had spent nearly every waking moment of the past week sitting in this room, only leaving on occasion to go to class, eat, or sleep-- though, he had even slept in the Room a couple of times. 

He was, however, nearing his last nerve. His patience was running thin and every minute that ticked by only brought them closer and closer to the deadline. Failure was not something that Tom Riddle was used to, and he did not intend for a Transfiguration project to be what drew him towards his break. 

So, if he had to stay in this damn room day and night until he figured out how to complete it, then stay he would. 

Admittedly, he didn’t mind being there all too much. After discovering the Room of Requirement several years ago, he made a habit of studying within its quiet walls-- he found it was a better place to go than the library, which was only crowded with distractions. He had always preferred isolation-- he felt most at ease when completing his work alone. On the rare occasions when he had to work with others, he found they only slowed him down or got in his way. But, he couldn’t deny that Hendrix was different from the rest-- she challenged him, in every sense of the word, and was the first person to do so.

A part of him was, truthfully, surprised that she had chosen to return to work with him. After the past week, he was starting to wonder if she would ever move past what had happened the last time they were alone together in this room. 

He thought back to the moment in which he had pressed the knife to her back. She had been scared, yes, but she had not been surprised, and that was what had caught him the most off guard. It was almost as if her opinion of him was so low, that she had expected it from him. Nothing he did seemed to shock her, no matter how cruel, and he wondered the extent of her past that had caused her to become so stoically unfazed by everything he threw her way.

Perhaps she was just much more deranged than he gave her credit for. It was always hard to tell with Hendrix.

His eyes glanced over towards the couch. A sigh left his lips when he saw her head resting atop her arm, clutching a pillow to her chest as her shoulders rose ever-so-slightly up and down as her deep breathing escaped her slightly parted lips. With her eyes shut, she almost looked like a doll, her features still and pristine. He didn’t think he had ever seen her look quite so at ease, as if for once in her life, her defenses were completely down. 

A part of him thought about how much easier his life would be if she was always as serene as this, but another part, which he tried to ignore, reminded him that Hendrix’s only redeeming quality was her sharp tongue. 

She shifted a little in her sleep, gripping the pillow tighter to her body and wrapping herself into a small ball around it as if grasping for its subtle warmth. He returned his attention to the book before him, but not before he quickly swiped his wand in her direction, causing the blanket draped across the back of the couch to levitate and softly fall atop her sleeping figure.

He returned his attention to the book in front of him, though he was growing increasingly irritated with every word he read and reread. Each book only repeated the same line: in order to successfully complete this type of magic, the witch or wizard performing it must understand the sanctity of life.

It was complete and utter horseshit, he thought. And, he didn’t doubt that Dumbledore, the self-righteous fool, assigned this project for the sole purpose of imposing his own sickening optimistic worldviews on his unsuspecting students. 

Tom understood the magnitude of life-- or, at least, of his own life. But, he would never let a sanctimonious Transfiguration professor dictate to him what he should believe. He thought that there must be another way to perform the spell… one that didn’t require a holier-than-thou lesson in morality. 

It was amusing that Hendrix hadn’t been able to get the spell to work, yet. For someone who preached nothing more than her own reverent virtues, she appeared to also be struggling to grasp the fundamental notion of this type of magic. Though, it made sense, considering she had implied that she had used the Killing Curse before.

He wondered if perhaps people who are able to perform the Killing Curse may be the same people that are unable to do this type of magic. It didn’t matter too much to him-- if he had to choose between powerful Dark Magic versus changing a coin into a bloody rat, his preference was obvious. 

Hendrix let out a small grunt in her sleep, and he looked towards her once more. Her brows were furrowed into a deep-set frown. Her peaceful demeanor evidently hadn’t lasted long, he thought to himself with a slight shake of his head. 

Her breathing had grown short and pained, and a slight wince fell from her parted lips. The couch trembled a bit as her body shifted uncomfortably, her fingers shaking much like they did when she was awake. It appeared the girl truly knew no peace, asleep or not. 

He tried to return to his studying, but as more pained cries left her lips, he slowly rose from his seat, standing up and watching her curiously. It wasn’t until a moment later that she let out a piercing shriek, rattling every bone in his body. 

Tom’s feet carried him quickly as he made his way over towards the couch. He stood before her and leaned over her violently trembling figure before hesitantly reaching out and shaking her arm. “Hendrix!” Her screaming only grew more pained, and he shook her arm harder, calling out once more, “Hendrix, wake up!”

Her eyes finally shot open, and her body bolted upright, her face inches from his as she let out frantic gasps while trying to make sense of the world around her. He leaned back, giving her a little space, but it took several moments for her panicky eyes to ease up. It seemed as though a light went off in her head and she finally remembered where she was, and as soon as she did, her cheeks flushed a bright red. 

“Fuck… I’m s-sorry,” she blurted out, looking embarrassed for the first time since he had met her. Her nerves were on full display as she avoided his eyes, looking anywhere but at him. 

He didn’t particularly know what to say, so he just waited for her to speak. Her eyes landed on his hand, which was still resting atop her shoulder, and he quickly withdrew his touch when he noticed it had been lingering there for too long. His voice was oddly calm when he asked, “Are you... alright?”

She bit her lip, mentally cursing herself for having fallen asleep before him. “I’m fine,” she muttered.

“Hendrix,” he sighed. “How many times do I have to tell you…you’re a terrible liar.”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, and he could almost see the frustration threatening to spill from her eyes. 

“It’s okay,” he said, earning a confused look from her. “I assume you were having a nightmare?” She nodded, but stared blankly ahead of her, once more reverting to avoiding his gaze. “Do you want to…talk?”

She shot him the most pointed glare before a single word slipped out of her downcast lips. “No.”

He had to fight the urge to roll his eyes and sighed before heading towards the exit. “I’ll be back,” he said over his shoulder before leaving the room without another word.

Avalon sat in the silence between the walls and was left alone with a horrible knot in her stomach. She wondered where he was going, but wouldn’t be surprised if he had just fled. If she had managed to scare Tom Riddle, she truly would have outdone herself this time. 

She was mortified. It was foolish of her to fall asleep thinking that her god-forsaken nightmares wouldn’t plague her slumber, but as she had dozed off on that book, her persistent bad dreams were the last thing on her mind. 

If only she had left and gone to bed in her own dorm, she thought to herself bitterly. Perhaps Riddle was right about one thing: maybe she was a little too stubborn for her own good.

It was at that moment she noticed the blanket that was draped atop her. She couldn’t remember if she had put that on herself…she found it near impossible to believe the alternate reason it would be carefully laid on her body. 

Riddle walked back through the door not too long after he left, though as he came into view, she noticed he was carrying two cups of tea. He strode over and placed one on the table in front of her before he sat on edge of the couch and silently drank his own cup. 

She stared at the cup skeptically, and when he noticed her watchful eyes he couldn’t help but scoff. “I didn’t poison it,” he said before he picked up her cup and took a sip to prove that it was nothing more than plain tea before he handed it to her and she quietly accepted it, seemingly satisfied. She didn’t thank him, but she did drink from it and a small smile found its way onto her lips, though she quickly wiped it off as soon as he looked her way. He watched her for a few more moments before he lightly laughed and said, “You really do think I’m trying to kill you, don’t you?”

She finished taking a sip from her cup before she put the drink down and grumbled, “Well, you did try to throw a knife at my head.”

“If I had wanted it to strike you, it would have,” he said nonchalantly, earning a dismissive huff from her. 

Her hands were wrapped around the cup of tea as she tried to bask in its warmth. She had her knees pulled up to her chest and he thought she looked almost timid for once in her life-- a stark difference to her usually brash and offensive self. It was almost unnerving to see her so quiet, he thought. Despite how horrific she typically was, he preferred her at her usual unendurable self rather than this morbidly quiet version. So, he tried to get her to talk. “This isn’t the first time you’ve had that nightmare, is it?” She seemed reluctant to answer, but as she looked at him for some hint of mockery, she was surprised to find nothing other than genuine curiosity written on his face. She shook her head and he nodded. “Is it the same one every time?”

Once again, she nodded. He was surprised when she spoke. “Every time I close my eyes, I’m taken back to that night,” she muttered, her voice cold and bitter. He didn’t need to question her to know she meant the night he had seen in her memories-- the night when that man had tore her flesh under the weight of his own blade.

He almost felt a pang of guilt when he thought about how he had shoved his own blade against her only a week ago. 

“Does this happen every night?” he inquired.

“Most nights,” she replied. 

He paused for a moment before asking, “Has Lestrange ever been there?”

“It doesn’t usually happen if I sleep knowing that I’m near someone,” she admitted. For some odd reason, he was glad that Lestrange hadn’t seen her like that. He didn’t think the fool would know how to react… Lestrange and Hendrix’s entire relationship perplexed Tom. She didn’t seem like the type to go after someone like the drunk bastard, and he found himself sometimes questioning whether or not her feelings for him were genuine. More so than anything, he wondered why someone as headstrong as her would settle to be with a stagnant moron like Lestrange.

He didn’t particularly mind…if anything, it was good that she trusted Lestrange so much. Perhaps she would open up to him before she would open up to Tom, himself. No, he truly didn’t particularly mind. But, he was confused by their dynamic nonetheless.

He got up wordlessly and walked over to the table where his wand and books were still perched, stuffing them all into his hold before striding back over towards her and sitting down beside the foot of the couch, his back pressed against the cushion where she had laid. She watched him with a confused look settled onto her furrowed brows, but he paid her no mind and resumed his work, taking a sip of his tea every few moments. Finally, he sighed and said, “Try and get some rest, Hendrix. You’re much more useful when you’re not on the brink of falling asleep.”

She placed her own cup quietly back onto the table and slowly laid back down, her head resting on the pillow near where Riddle had his back turned. For the first time, she noticed how he smelled of a mixture of cologne, parchment, and flames-- surely, she thought, it must be because he sat so close to the fireplace whenever he studied. 

She was reluctant to listen to him and go back to sleep, but she was still so tired that it was increasingly difficult for her to stay awake. A part of her debated walking back to her own room, though the daunting trek towards Ravenclaw Tower was something she dreaded more than spending the night in a room with Riddle.

Her hands pulled the blanket back over her body and she closed her eyes, allowing her exhaustion to once more carry her off to sleep. Though, this time, she dreamt of nothing more than the comfort of sitting by a fireplace.


	21. Chapter 21

Silence.

Avalon woke to absolute silence. 

Her body jolted upright and she quickly looked around, taking note of her surroundings as the memory of where she was flooded back into her brain.

She was in the Room of Requirement. With Riddle. 

And yet, as her eyes skimmed the room, he was nowhere to be seen.

Her body eased back into the couch, but there was an unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach. 

She had fallen asleep in a hidden room that nobody else in the castle knew about…with Tom fucking Riddle. Her fingers began nervously tapping along the couch as she scolded her own foolishness-- how could she have let her guard down so much around him? 

For all she knew, he could have killed her right then and there and left her body to rot in that bloody room. It would have been ages before anyone would have found her. And for what? Because she had been too damn stubborn to have walked herself back to her own room.

But, she was still alive. 

Alive. Awake. Safe. 

He hadn’t done anything that night to make her feel even remotely unsafe. She compared his attitude last night to how he’d behaved the last time they had been in that damn room together. The last time, he had spoken with venom in his words, pressed a knife to her back, thrown it at her head… 

He had wanted her dead. She saw it in his eyes-- he had wanted to kill her.

But, last night was different. He hadn’t been his usual self. If she didn’t know better, she would almost think that he had been trying to be nice to her. 

Thankfully, she did know better. And she knew that ‘nice’ was not in Riddle’s blood. Logic led her to know that everything Riddle did was transactional. If he wanted her to do well on the project, he would be more tolerable to her until he got what he wanted, and then all would return to normal. He viewed human beings as nothing more than a means to an end...just little chess pieces in his manipulative game of life.

He was not kind. He was not caring. He was not comforting.

Tom Riddle was not the kind of person to sit by her side to make sure she didn’t have nightmares. Tom Riddle was the kind of person to sit by her side to make sure her nightmares didn’t interrupt his studying. 

His books were still on the table before her and a cushion was placed on the ground near where he had been sitting. 

Where was he?

A part of her wondered if her screaming episode had scared him off and he’d left in the middle of the night. 

But, almost as quickly as that thought entered her mind, her attention was grasped by the sound of the entrance creaking open, revealing a dark-haired Prefect carrying a large tray in his hands. Tom wordlessly made his way over to her, placing the tray on the table and then sitting down in the armchair beside her couch. 

His eyes were painted with dark purple circles beneath them, his pale skin dull from his evident exhaustion. It was apparent that he had not slept at all that night, surely too busy reading and rereading the same books to be bothered by something so mundane as resting. 

She eyed the tray carefully, staring hungrily at the two steaming cups of dark coffee and the plateful of lemon blueberry scones…  _ That’s strange _ . Those were her favorite things to eat at breakfast every morning. 

Tom watched her stare at the food he had brought and raised an eyebrow at her. She returned his stare with a blank expression strewn on her face, and he rolled his eyes before reaching out, grabbing one of the scones, and taking a bite. Only after she saw him eat, did she grab one herself and quietly eat it, picking up a cup of coffee shortly after and sipping from it as she looked around the room. 

“What time is it?” she finally asked, her ragged voice breaking the heavy silence. 

“Quarter past seven,” he replied. “You slept soundly for the rest of the night… minus the snoring, of course,” he added with a slight smirk on his lips as he took a sip from his coffee while maintaining mocking eye-contact.

She felt a blush rising to her cheeks, but furrowed her brows into an annoyed frown as she narrowed her eyes on him. “I do not snore.”

“Then what was that I heard in my ear all night?” he asked, shaking his head. She opened her mouth to argue, but reluctantly shut it once more before returning to nibbling on her scone. Tom spoke again, “Right, are you ready to work?”

“Work?” she said exasperatedly, her mouth still full of food, earning a disgusted glare from him as she wiped at the crumbs on the corner of her lips with the back of her hand. 

“Must you eat like a Neanderthal?” he asked.

“Must you never shut the fuck up?” she shot back lazily.

“Why are you always so vulgar?” he frowned. “Honestly, Hendrix, who raised you?”

“Not my parents,” she muttered, laughing to herself. He shot her a pointed look, confused at how she managed to find humor in her own tragedy, before she cackled and shrugged. “Orphan, remember? You should know a thing or two about that, right?” He stared at her blankly, and she rolled her eyes. “Oh come on, you have to admit that was pretty funny.”

“Are you ready to work again?” he repeated, ignoring her comment.

She let out an exasperated sigh before finally answering him. “Have you forgotten we have class?”

“I’m not leaving this room until I finish this project,” he said sternly. 

“Then you’ll be in here forever,” she grumbled. “Face it, we’re not making any progress.”

“I just need to focus a little longer-”

“You and I both know that our focus is not the issue,” she said, cutting his thought short.

“I’m going to get it,” he snarled, his irritation once again rising to the surface.

“Why can’t you just accept that there are some things that you cannot do? Is failure so impossible for you to come to terms with?”

“I don’t fail,” he said, his voice sharp as he glared at her.

“Nobody can succeed in everything that they do.”

“Perhaps you merely lack ambition,” he replied coldly. 

“Or perhaps you lack sensibility,” she shot back. “Let’s just go to class and we can work after.”

“I told you, Hendrix, I’m not leaving.”

She ran a hand through her hair, tangling her fingers in the dark locks as she pulled in frustration. “So you want to risk getting detention for skipping class, just so we can sit in this bloody room all day and make just as little progress as we have for the past month? I’m not going to get in trouble just to keep failing.”

“Then by all means, leave,” he hissed.

“Honestly, I will,” she scoffed, standing up with nothing more than her wand in her hand and a frown on her face. “Because I realize that sitting here and trying the same damn spell over and over again isn’t going to get us anywhere. I can wave my wand and try to change this coin into a bird all I want, but it won’t work, alright?” She pointed her wand at the coin on the table and grumbled the spell, growing increasingly tired of every one of their conversations leading to an argument. 

But, much to both of their surprise, the coin once again sprouted tiny little bird’s feet and sprang to life, scurrying around the table as the two of them stared at each other in shock. She grasped the scuttering coin in her hands and watched it fidget between her fingers as she laughed bitterly, shaking her head at it as she grumbled, “Of course.” 

She should have been elated, but she could only revel in the irony of the spell working the one time she had been banking on its failure. Riddle was watching her with a smirk on his lips, and before he could say anything, she just mumbled, “I don’t want to hear it.”

“Wasn’t going to say anything,” he said, though his smug voice suggested otherwise.

She reluctantly sat back down on the couch, letting out a series of aggravated huffs and puffs which only made Riddle laugh quietly as he watched her place the hybrid bird-coin back onto the table and turn it back into its inanimate self. “Xavier’s going to give me an earful for leaving him alone in class,” she groaned.

“He has Rosier, surely he’ll survive. I’m confident one day away from his girlfriend won’t kill him, despite how attached he seems to have grown to you,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

Tom shrugged. “It is out of character for Lestrange to spend so much time fixated on one girl. His prospects typically shift quite quickly. For him to do anything else would suggest to me that he’s become quite fond of you.” He paused a moment before adding. “Merlin knows why.”

She rolled her eyes-- a habit that had become more and more persistent as she was forced to spend time with Riddle. 

“Why are you with Lestrange?” he asked bluntly.

“This is the second time you’ve asked me this,” she pointed out.

“And it’s the second time you’re not giving me a real answer,” he responded. 

She bit the inside of her mouth, thinking about her next words carefully before saying, “I enjoy his company.”

He scoffed, a light laugh bellowing out of his parted lips. “Is that the best answer you can come up with?”

“Why are you with Kyra?” she shot back. She could see him grow visibly annoyed. He hated when his own personal matters were brought into things. Hypocritical bastard. 

“I’m not with her,” he said.

“I know. You’re just fucking her,” she muttered. “Even though she is, as I’m sure you know, in a relationship with Travers.” Tom smiled a bit. He actually smiled a bit. As if the thought of taking what wasn’t his gave him some sort of joy. She continued, “You don’t even like her.”

“It’s only sex, Hendrix,” he said, his tone so casual that it took her aback a moment. “Some people can separate the emotional from the physical aspects of a relationship, contrary to what you may believe.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” she asked, crossing her arms. His silence was telling, and she hissed, “How much does Xavier tell you?”

“Enough that I’m starting to wonder what you’re getting out of your relationship with him. Clearly, you’re not with him for sex, I doubt it’s love that’s keeping you here, and I know you aren’t getting any sort of…” he paused and a light laugh escaped his lips before he continued, “... intellectual stimulation. So, what’s in it for you?”

She had to remind herself every so often of his intelligence. Riddle picked up on everything, very few things slipped past him, and she knew that she would have to start doing a better job of portraying herself before him, though she wondered if it were too late for that. He saw through her lies in the same way she saw through his-- it was hard to trick someone who played the same game. 

“You ask me this so often I’m starting to think you may be in love with him, yourself,” she said sarcastically, raising a brow. He didn’t break their stare and his expression didn’t even falter, so she knew that he was expecting more of an answer. She sighed, “I’m not stupid, Riddle. Xavier has a reputation, so I’m taking my time with him. It is as simple as that.”

“I don’t believe that,” he said sternly.

“Good thing I’m not asking you to,” she shrugged before a frown washed over her face and she added, “And anyway, why would I have to explain myself to you? It’s not like you’re particularly an open book.”

“Then ask me anything,” he said, his body awfully relaxed as he leaned back in the armchair. She stared at him skeptically, waiting for him to retract his statement, but he didn’t. He just continued, “You ask me a question, I’ll ask you a question.”

“What’s the catch?” 

He shrugged. “No catch, just don’t lie to me.”

He wanted to get information out of her-- he wasn’t trying to hide it, and he didn’t have to because he knew that she would take his offer no matter what. They both wanted to pry the other, and as usual, everything Riddle did was in the form of a transaction.

It was dangerous-- that much she knew-- to go down this path with Riddle. She knew that she would have to be careful with what information she let slip, though the thought of being able to ask him questions of her own was too tempting an offer to pass up. 

So, she decided to dance with the devil. She said, “Fine,” and watched as his eyes darkened with the temptation of what he desired: knowledge. “You first,” she said, deciding it was better to let him set the tone before she did.

He seemed surprised that she allowed him to ask before she did, but he didn’t deny the opportunity. He merely said, “Why are you  _ actually _ with Lestrange?”

“You’re  _ really _ not going to drop this, are you?”

“If you’re not going to answer my questions, then there is no need for us to do this,” he said nonchalantly. 

She gritted her teeth together, but reluctantly said, “Connections are everything.” She saw a triumphant glint in his gaze and knew that he was satisfied with her admission, so before he could press her further, she asked, “Do you care for any of them? The people you keep as company, I mean.”

“You said it yourself: connections are everything,” he replied, his tone unbothered before he asked his next question. “Do you truly believe that you belong in Ravenclaw?”

It wasn’t what she had expected him to ask. “Why wouldn’t I?” she asked defensively.

“Most Ravenclaws I know spend their time in the library, not seducing wealthy heirs for personal gain.”

“Perhaps my ability to balance both is precisely why I’m here,” she said with a slight chuckle.

“I know very few Ravenclaws that can justify using Dark Magic,” he pointed out.

She took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as she thought back to her first day at Hogwarts. She spoke slowly when she admitted, “The Sorting Hat was torn on me for quite some time. It went back and forth between Ravenclaw and Slytherin for nearly four minutes.”

“Four minutes? So you were nearly a hatstall,” he said, surprised. 

“It said that I had the resourcefulness of a Slytherin. That I would do whatever it took to get what I wanted, no matter what that may be. And it was right. But, ultimately, being a Ravenclaw is more than being a bookworm. If that’s all it took, you’d be here, too. We’re also logic-driven, creative… we don’t seek knowledge just to earn leverage and power. That’s what drove it to place me in Ravenclaw.”

“You mean to tell me that you don’t seek power?”

“No,” she answered truthfully. Power had never tempted her. She never expected recognition or praise for the things that she did, she merely did them because she knew that they were the right thing to do. With the mind and talents that she possessed, she knew that she could rise to become more than what she was, but that didn’t matter to her. She had always sought knowledge to become the best version of herself just to prove that she could, not to use it for status, wealth, or fame.

Her intellect was hers and only hers. And she wanted it to remain that way. 

“Why not?” he pressed.

“Because I already know that I am powerful. I don’t need to convince others of that fact,” she stated simply. He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off with her next question. “What do you want to do after you graduate from Hogwarts?”

“Become the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor,” he replied. 

His answer caught her off guard. Never in a million years did she think that the future Dark Lord would have aspirations to teach how to defend against his own practices. It seemed an awfully plain answer for someone who strove to become something larger than life, though she wondered if there was more to it than he was admitting. Before she could question him, he asked, “Do you not think that becoming a Healer is a waste of your potential?”

“It depends on what you view as a waste,” she said. “I think that Healing could be the best use of my potential.”

“Is that it, or do you just feel guilty that you’ve taken lives and now feel as though saving them would make up for it?”

“I’ve said it before,” she said, her volume struggling to stay level as she spoke, “I did what I had to. What of yourself?”

“What of me?” he asked. 

“Have you ever taken a life?” She knew the answer, but she wanted to hear him say it. She wanted to hear him admit that he had already begun to descend down his path to darkness. She wanted to hear him have to say that her actions were no worse than his own, because she knew that despite the image he had tried to portray of himself, she was still ten times the person he could ever be.

She was a fighter. Not by choice, but through necessity. And in fights, sometimes people died.

He, however… he was a killer. 

There was a difference.

The word slipped off his tongue so casually that it sent a chill down her spine. “Yes.” She was searching for a hint of a smile on his lips, but there was none. His face was cold, unemotional, and blank, yet his eyes were unguarded. He, for once, did not harbor secrets behind his dark gaze. And, as she watched him, he wondered why his admission had not surprised her in the slightest. 

They shared a moment of quiet together, each one analyzing the other before he asked, “How many?”

“Four,” she replied hesitantly. “You?”

“Four,” he said confidently.

She didn’t know how to react. A part of her had thought that maybe, just maybe, he would not have killed that many people yet. That maybe there was still a tiny piece of him that had not yet been tainted. But, another part of her had thought that his number would be significantly higher.

She wasn’t sure which one she would have preferred, but she knew one thing: either would have been better than hearing him say the same number as her. It felt odd. It felt odd to listen to him admit that they harbored the same weight on their shoulders. They had taken the same number of lives.

Each of them was responsible for four hearts that would never beat again. Four sets of eyes that would never see again. Four people who would never come back again.

She felt an uneasy knot in her stomach and suddenly felt as though she was going to be sick. Though, he paid no mind to her apparent uneasiness and instead continued, asking, “Who were they?”

“I don’t know,” she answered truthfully. Their names, their faces, their identities… she had no idea. She had never allowed herself to find out. If she knew, then she would have to think about the people that they left behind. Avalon knew one thing and it was to never pity the dead, only the ones that are left to mourn them. 

“How can you not know?” he asked. “The Killing Curse only works if you mean it.”

“Who said I hadn’t meant it?”

“So you meant to kill someone you didn’t know?” he asked. “Tell me, Hendrix, how you have the nerve to preach morality when you kill in cold blood?”

“It was not in cold blood,” she snarled, her voice rising. “They took everything from me. It was either their lives or my loved ones. I chose the former.”

“Who are they?” he asked again.

“I told you, I don’t know.”

“No, who are they? Who do they answer to? Were they Grindelwald’s men? The man in your memories did not wear the symbol of the Alliance.”

“I don’t know,” she said, gritting her teeth. 

“You’re lying,” he noted. “I thought we agreed not to lie?”

“I’m telling you, I don’t know who they were,” she hissed.

“Fine, then tell me who Harry is.”

She felt her heart sink so deep in her chest that she feared it might have stopped. 

To hear him say Harry’s name… it felt wrong. She wanted to scream, she wanted to hit him, she wanted to throw him against the wall and hear his body crack against the stones. 

She wanted to make him suffer for having the nerve to speak Harry’s name. He did not have the right. Not when he had been the one to have murdered Harry in the first place. 

Avalon had seen death time and time again. It was not an unfamiliar thing to her. But few deaths had broken her the way Harry’s had. To see him crumple onto the ground before them, hearing Voldemort’s cold, high laughter ringing in the air… it had shattered every last ounce of hope that she had in her body. When Harry died, so did a part of everyone’s souls.

The last flame of the resistance had been quelled when they saw his eyes stare lifelessly into the void, never to move again. She had fallen to her knees, as had many others, completely numb to the flying curses around her head. In that moment, it hadn’t mattered if one of them would have hit her-- she knew that the war was over. They had lost.

Ron had run forward and tried to blast Voldemort with a Killing Curse, but the green embers had failed to form out of his wand. He had been heartbroken, and livid, but he still couldn’t cast the spell.

Nobody in the Order could.

Avalon had been the only member who had ever used it. And she knew that was the reason she was standing there, before Tom Riddle, chosen to be the one to carry out the task of killing the future Dark Lord. She would do whatever it took. 

Even if that meant she would have to make her body count five.

And yet, her voice was timid when she whispered out, “Wh-what did you just say?”

“Who is Harry?” he repeated. “The first time we dueled in Defense Against the Dark Arts, I cast a spell that made you see your worst memory. You began calling out for someone named Harry. Who is that?”

“Don’t you dare speak of him,” she snarled, though her voice was not nearly as threatening as she had hoped it would sound. Her nails began digging into her palms as her fists tightened into little balls. 

“Did he fight alongside you?” he pressed. She could see the insatiable need for knowledge in his eyes, it was an all-consuming flame that rose in his stare whenever he thought he was nearing answers that he so craved. 

“I’m done answering questions,” she said sternly.

“Hendrix-”

“I said I’m  _ done _ ,” she hissed. She saw the muscles in his jaw tighten as he held back his next thought. “Are we going to try and finish this bloody project or did we skip classes for nothing?”

He opted to say nothing, instead shaking his head and picking up the coin on the table before them as he began attempting the spell once more. 

\---------

Hours dragged on, though it was hard to get a sense of time within the Room of Requirement. With no windows or glimpses into the outside world, they felt trapped in their lonely isolation. Avalon wasn’t particularly sure if it was the middle of the day or the middle of the night. Spending time with Riddle was aggravating enough during normal circumstances, though she found he was ten times worse when he was tired. It appeared that his lack of sleep the night prior had turned him into an even more irritated version of his usual self, becoming more easily upset by the smaller things. 

His pale skin had become painted with deeper dark circles beneath his midnight gaze, his exhaustion prevailing through his bloodshot eyes. His hands had found a permanent home tangled within his dark locks, constantly tugging at his hair as he tried time and time again to complete the spell with no success. 

They did not speak to each other much after their prior questioning, and the few words that they did exchange were short-lived snarky remarks that only made the air within the room feel thinner and thinner. 

Avalon found herself cursing Dumbledore’s name, wishing the future-headmaster would have simply dropped his constant need to meddle into her affairs. It was, after all, his fault that she was currently stuck in a secret room with none other than the soon-to-be Dark Lord.

It all felt like a fever dream.

She wondered what her friends would think if she told them about all of this. It was a strange thought to ponder how she would be the only person aware of the old timeline once she returned to the future. Once she killed Riddle, history would be rewritten to never include him nor the horrors he made them all endure.

She was glad that they would be free of the trauma that Voldemort would cause, the world would be a better place in his absence. Yet, she was also scared. To be alone with her knowledge, to be the only person who remembered the war, who remembered the loss… it was scary to think about.

It hadn’t been long after she arrived to this time that she came to the daunting realization that when she returned to her own time, many things would be entirely different. In a world without Voldemort, she wondered how much of her own life would be changed forever. Harry would have his parents, the children of the Death Eaters would never grow up in those tainted homes, and perhaps her own story would be rewritten without the fear of the Dark Lord looming overhead at all times.

She was afraid that things may be so different that some of her friends may have had their timelines changed so drastically, that upon her arrival, they may no longer be her friends. It was impossible to predict what kind of world she would return to. There was a reason nobody meddled with the past this way-- the ripples in the timeline could cause changes that nobody could ever foresee. And yet, this was still her only option.

Her eyes glanced over to Riddle and she found herself incapable of looking away. His usual cool composure had melted away as he sat at the table, repeating the spell over and over and muttering quiet profanities under his breath after each failed attempt. 

_ Four _ .

Four people. 

She couldn’t stop thinking about their sins. Each of them had taken four lives. While their reasoning was surely different, in a black and white world, they were equals. A life was a life, and knowing she was responsible for the same number of deaths as the darkest wizard of all time made her feel an inexplicable uneasiness in her stomach.

It was a daunting thought that when she finally killed Riddle, she would officially have more deaths under her name than he ever would. 

And that scared her more than she cared to admit. 

She found herself growing angry at him-- why was he the way that he was? Why did he leave her no choice but to end his life? His death was going to save thousands and thousands of innocent lives, and yet the burden of carrying his ghost fell upon her shoulders.

She couldn’t get his damn face out of her mind. 

And that was what bothered her the most: he was not faceless. She knew him. She knew who he was. She knew what he looked like. She knew his friends. She knew his peers. She knew his professors. 

And when she killed him, she knew who he would be leaving behind.

She didn’t pity him, no. He did not care for those around him, and she knew that. But, she wondered how Xavier would react… would he drown his sorrows in more liquor? What about Orion? Would his heart be able to handle another loss? Nott? Mulciber? Rosier?

Every single person that Riddle had wrapped around his finger would mourn the loss of the beloved Hogwarts Prefect, never to know the horrors that would one day be committed under his name. 

She hated knowing.

She hated thinking.

She hated sitting in that bloody room with him.

_ Silence _ .

She fucking hated the silence.

She stood up and walked over to the record player, the sound of her footsteps attracting Riddle’s attention as he watched her grumpily shuffle through the records on the table and pick one out, placing it on the player and dropping the needle onto it.

The room filled with the sound of Sinatra’s velvet voice and she felt a small shred of peace invade her senses as her mind was no longer left the luxury of filling the silence with her own worrisome thoughts.

“This isn’t what you usually play,” Riddle said, noting the change from Vivaldi.

“I’m tired of listening to the same bloody record every day,” she snapped, not bothering to look at him. “And you have the damn music taste of my grandfather.”

He fought the urge to roll his eyes and instead watched as she slunk her way back over to the couch and plopped down before the table. Every time she cast the spell, she was greeted with the half-bird, half-coin hybrid creature that would waddle around. He could tell she was growing irritated with the lack of progress by the constant stream of profanities that he could hear avalanching out of her mouth at any given moment. 

He was torn between being partially angry that she had made progress while he hadn’t, while simultaneously being so bloody exhausted that he didn’t care who finished the project first as long as they got it over with. At that point, he just wanted to finish it up and never have to cast this wretched spell ever again. His mind was spinning from exhaustion and he was beginning to find it difficult to keep his focus intact. 

He tried to put all of his energy into the spell, he really did, but it seemed a fruitless effort. He was beginning to become delirious, constantly having to let out deep breaths of air to clear his mind, though they did little to ease his racing thoughts. 

The song playing wasn’t the worst she had played, though he wouldn’t admit that to her. His lack of protest, however, was enough to convince her that he didn’t hate it. If he hadn’t liked it, she knew he would have made it abundantly clear. She looked at him for a quick moment and smiled to herself when she noticed him absentmindedly tapping his wand along the table to the tune of the song. 

“It’s Sinatra,” she said.

“Hm?” he hummed, looking up at her.

“The music. It’s Frank Sinatra.”

“And?” 

“And I’d figured you’d like to know since you’re tapping your wand to the song.” He put his wand down on the table and huffed. She rolled her eyes, “Merlin, is it that hard for you to admit you enjoy something?”

And, there she went again, he thought to himself. It was as if it was impossible for her to go two seconds without picking an argument. He oftentimes found himself wishing he could permanently put a silencing charm on her… surely, it would save the entire school a lot of trouble.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but tapping my wand does not mean I am suddenly a fan,” he said. 

“You just won’t allow yourself to think anything muggle-created can be good. I swear, you’re an absolute moron when it comes to these things.”

“Honest question, how did you manage to have friends at your old school?” he asked, earning another roll of her eyes in return as she ignored his comment and kept speaking.

“Just admit you like the song,” she pressed.

Merlin, she was  _ insufferable _ . 

“Get back to work,” he snarled, shaking his head as he returned to his mindless task of staring at the coin before him.

“Someone’s getting grumpy,” she mumbled, glaring in his direction.

“If you haven’t noticed, the project is due in less than a day and we are not even remotely close to completing it!” he snapped, his frustration finally exploding as he pointed his wand at the coin one last time and attempted the spell, grunting in annoyance as nothing changed. He picked it up with frantic fingers and threw it at the wall, burying his head in his hands as he rubbed his temples, trying to calm the ache in his head. 

“Bloody hell,” she muttered. “You need a nap, some therapy, and something to eat.”

“Quiet, Hendrix,” he grumbled, her voice like nails against a chalkboard in his head. He finally opened his eyes once more and stared at where the coin had once been sitting, his eyes narrowing when he noticed the tiny black feather that had been sitting beneath it. 

His thoughts were cut short when he felt something hard smack into the side of his head, an angry grunt escaping his lips as he rubbed the spot of collision. He stared at the leftover breakfast scone that had bounced off his head and onto the table before shifting his gaze towards a stone-faced Hendrix. “Did you just throw a bloody scone at me?”

He saw the second one coming and ducked before it hit him, immediately glaring daggers in her direction as she began doubling over in laughter. In between her own wheezing, she managed to choke out, “No, Riddle. I threw two scones at you.”

“You’re such a child,” he accused, her laughter echoing incessantly through his head. 

“And you’re unbearably pissy when you’re hungry. Eat a scone and for once, don’t be difficult,” she said, motioning towards the discarded sweet. When she noticed he wasn’t moving, she grabbed another scone off of the tray and lifted it up, ready to launch it at him again.

“Throw one more at me and I’ll hex you,” he warned.

She laughed again. “Bold words for someone who can’t even turn a coin into a bird.”

“Ah, yes, because you are quite the expert at that,” he shot back.

“At least I’ve made progress,” she shrugged. 

“Hardly,” he said.

She eyed him curiously. His excessive exhaustion had quelled his constant anger, she noticed. At least one good thing had come out of them being trapped in the room for hours on end. 

Just when he thought she was done being irritating, she said, “Remember when I beat your ass in a duel?”

His eyes darted to her so quickly that he nearly got whiplash. She had a lazy smile plastered onto her lips, leaning her head on one hand as she stared at him smugly. Her eyes were half shut, her exhaustion threatening to carry her off to sleep. Even in her tired incoherence, she managed to grasp every opportunity to annoy him. He thought that her greatest talent may truly have been being the most genuinely infuriating person he had ever met. 

Still, at that moment, he was so damn tired that even he found it hard to hold back his laugh as he looked at her grinning self. “When you what?”

“Oh, you know. When I obliterated you in class?”

“If I recall correctly, you’re the one who ended that duel with a broken arm,” he pointed out, smirking as a frown found its way onto her face.

“If Merrythought hadn’t meddled, I would have won that easily,” she said confidently.

“Well, Merrythought isn’t here,” he said. “Shall we have a rematch?”

She sprung to her feet, wand in hand and glimmer in her eyes. “Oh, you’re on.” She waltzed over, standing in front of him with an excited grin. “First to disarm the other wins?”

“Or first to fall unconscious loses,” he retorted.

“Riddle.”

“Fine,” he chuckled. “First to disarm the other wins.”

“No Dark Magic,” she warned him, pointing her wand at him sternly. 

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“I’m not having a duel in a room that nobody knows about if you’re going to blast me with Dark Magic,” she explained.

“I mean-”

“Riddle!”

“Alright,” he said, throwing his hands up. “No Dark Magic.” She narrowed her eyes at him and he let out a groan before saying, “I promise.”

Satisfied with his answer, she smiled to herself and began walking to the other end of the room, a happy bounce in her step as she made her way over. Tom lightly laughed to himself. He had to admit that he had met very few people who jumped at the opportunity to duel him. Hendrix was, to say the very least, quite fearless.

Whether that was due to bravery, stupidity, or sheer sleep-deprivation, he wasn’t too sure. 

He slowly walked until he stood on the other end of the room, facing her with his wand in his hand as they stared at one another. He stood in front of the bookshelf, and she was beside the furthest wall. “I’ll go easy on you,” he taunted her, a cocky smile painted on his face. 

She just laughed and shook her head before calling out, “Do your worst.”

They locked eyes, both of their stares gleaming with sheer excitement as they pointed their wands at each other and paused for a moment. The air was thick with anticipation. For a moment, it felt as though time came to a standstill. 

Tom gave her a curt nod.

And then it was just her skill versus his. 

“ _ Expelliarmus _ ,” she stated, casting a red flash of light his way. 

He slashed his wand through the air, deflecting the spell with ease. “You’ll have to be more creative than that,” he scoffed. 

There was a knowing grin on her lips as she called out, “I know,” and flicked her hand towards him, causing a book to fly off the shelf behind him and slam into his hand with a force so powerful that it made him hiss in pain. He almost let go of his wand, but kept his grip tight as he looked up at her. He quirked an eyebrow and she giggled before he pointed his wand at her, sending a gust of air at her chest.

She had seen him use this type of magic time and time again, so she threw her arms up in front of her, crossing them in front of her face the moment the spell collided with her. Her focus was channeled into fighting the power of his spell, and he watched as she barely moved a foot against his magic. 

She was a quick learner, he noted. 

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a large object flying towards his feet. An instant before the wooden chair collided with his legs, nearly knocking him down, he pointed his wand at it and it exploded into a thousand splinters, all of them settling onto the ground as Hendrix chuckled to herself. 

Tom whipped his wand at her, the wooden fragments rising into the air and hurtling towards her hand. He watched as she quickly threw up a shield, the little pieces scattering around the room, narrowly missing her. 

There was a brief moment where both of them stood still, taking in deep breaths as they relished in the adrenaline pumping through their veins. They were both fighters, it was in their nature. And they had both met their match in one another.

Tom took her hesitation as another opportunity to attack. He slashed his wand in her direction and she felt a gust knock her feet out from beneath her. She fell to the ground with a thud, her head hitting against the floor, a ringing noise echoing through her ears as she let out a grunt of pain. Still, she kept her fingers grasped tightly around her wand. 

He opened his mouth to throw another spell her way, but before he could, she raised her arms above her head and dozens of floor-length mirrors rose out of the ground, encircling him into tight confinement. He spun around, only greeted with a flurry of reflected visions of himself before he noticed a red flash flying towards him, though he wasn’t sure from what direction.

He ducked down, the disarming spell missing him narrowly and shattering one of the mirrors. Out of the space created in its absence, he caught a glimpse of Hendrix getting back onto her feet, a self-satisfied smirk on her curled lips. 

He wasted no time pushing his hands in the direction of the remaining mirrors, sending them back with a strong force. They lined the room, scattered sporadically throughout the area and creating dozens of mirrored images of himself and Hendrix all throughout the space. 

His attention turned to the fireplace and he grinned, pointing his wand at the flames before creating a circle above his head. 

Avalon watched in confusion as dark smoke billowed out of the fireplace, encapsulating the entire room with a thick black shroud that rendered her vision nearly useless. She could hear his footsteps echoing behind her, and she spun around, but he was nowhere to be seen. 

Out of the darkness of the smoke, she heard the crackling of fire. 

Not even a second later, she jumped back at the sight of a glowing, red snake made of hot fire lunging for her hand. She felt the heat of its flames radiate onto her skin, but she stumbled backward just in time, nearly tripping over her own feet as the flaming serpent slithered towards her, embers flickering off its body as it eyed her wand hungrily. 

Before it could jump at her again, she pointed her wand towards the ceiling and said,  _ “Augamenti,”  _ watching as water began to sprout out of the tip of her wand and pour down onto the ground. The snake fizzled to nothingness, its existence extinguished by the downfall. 

She felt water trickle onto her skin, her hair sticking to her forehead as she kept the water raining down in the room, clearing out the dark smoke and revealing Riddle standing just a few feet away from her. 

His dark curls clung to his skin in the same way his shirt was now pressed against his chest, the outline of his slender body showing through his white button-up. Tiny droplets of water grazed his long lashes, falling down and trickling along his moonlight pale skin every time he blinked. 

There was a faint smile on his lips as he stood there watching her, his shoulders rising and falling as he caught his breath, and she swore that for a moment, she saw a hint of happiness in his eyes. 

She pointed her wand at his hand and clearly stated, “ _ Incarcerous,”  _ grinning as a glowing rope shot out and wrapped around his wrist. His eyes widened, but as he traced the rope with his eyes, he quickly wrapped it around his arm before tugging his arm back, hoping to pull her wand out of her hands. 

Instead, she fell forward, the rope yanking her until she crashed towards him, their bodies colliding as the two of them fell backward onto the ground. 

She landed directly atop him, one of her hands planting on his chest and the other crashing onto the ground while one of his own hands shot up to quickly grab her by the waist, instinctively making sure she wouldn’t crash down. 

Their eyes met and the smiles wiped off both of their faces, instead replaced by an unfamiliar curiosity as they each tried to catch their hitched breaths. 

Her shirt had ridden up and his hand lingered on the small of her waist, his touch oddly delicate yet firm as he propped her body above his. His hands were warm, so much so that she was almost taken aback by how his touch didn’t feel at all numbing against her. 

He opened his mouth to say something when she quickly came back to her senses and snatched his wand out of his other hand, rolling off his body with a triumphant grin. “I win,” she declared proudly. 

He didn’t say anything, just sat back up, eyeing her with a certain glint in his eyes that she couldn’t quite decipher. He held his hand out and she put his wand back into his grasp before pushing herself off of the ground and getting back on her feet. 

“Smart move with the mirrors,” he noted.

She had to fight the urge to smile and shrugged. “The snake was a nice touch.”

A faint grin graced his lips again, though his eyes were deep in thought. She could see him lost in his own mind as he stared at the wand in his hands, and she wondered if his exhaustion had finally gotten the best of him.

His eyes trailed back to her, and they held each other’s gaze for a moment. She couldn’t put her finger on what had changed, but his eyes appeared a little lighter than usual, as if for once in his life, he had lowered his walls just enough for her to see past the coldness he usually portrayed. 

She still felt the lingering warmth of his hand on her waist. 

A sudden sense of uneasiness rose into the pit of her stomach and she broke their stare, instead shaking her head and muttering, “Let’s get back to work.”

He didn’t say anything, only stood up and made his way back to the armchair by the couch.

She wanted him to say something. Anything. For once, she wanted to hear his voice fill the silence, just so she could hear what the hell was going on through his head. 

But, he didn’t speak. 

And so she sat back down at the couch and looked at the coin before her. She fidgeted her wand between her fingers, eyeing the golden nugget reluctantly before she pointed her want towards it shakily. 

Riddle watched her curiously out of the corner of his eyes, refusing to look away as she took in a deep breath and recited the spell.

It felt like time stopped. 

Perhaps it was the exhaustion, or perhaps it was the elation, but neither one of them could contain the sheer excitement that coursed through their bodies as they saw the coin transform before their eyes, morphing into a white dove that sat delicately on the table. 

Avalon’s eyes were glued to the bird as it spread its wings and fluttered up, flying above their heads as it circled the room, yet Tom’s eyes were only focused on watching his partner stand there with her jaw dropped to the floor. 

She spun around to face him and couldn’t contain the wide grin that had found a permanent home on her lips. “We did it!”

He shook his head before stating, “Nonsense. You did it.”

He seemed happy. Perhaps it was only because he knew he would get his desired grade on the project, yet she couldn’t deny it-- Tom Riddle looked happy. 

And as she watched him stand before her, a genuine smile on his lips, she couldn’t help but feel a wave of inexplicable guilt wash over her, wiping her grin off of her lips in an instant. She suddenly couldn’t bear the weight of his stare and returned her attention to the dove above them before pointing her wand at the bird and turning it back into the coin, catching it in mid-air as it fell down to the ground. 

“We’re done,” she said breathlessly. 

“We’re done,” he repeated, his voice equal parts relieved and exhausted. The adrenaline from the duel and the elation of their success began to wear off almost instantly, leaving them with the tired reality that they had not slept properly in nearly two whole days. He rubbed his temples, feeling the need to fight off his own lethargy before he asked, “What time is it?”

As soon as he spoke, a clock appeared on the wall. They both glanced at it and let out a groan when they saw the time: 4:29 a.m.

He turned back towards her and said, almost reluctantly, “Shall I walk you back to Ravenclaw Tower?”

She sighed, her body feeling heavy as she fought back the urge to let out a yawn. “I’m going to bed right here, right now.”

There was a flash of relief in his bloodshot eyes as he nodded, clearly satisfied by the fact that she was as drained as he was, sparing him the need to take her back to her dorm. He watched as she stretched her arms out, her white button-up wet from her own torrential downfall. The thin fabric clung to her figure, the wetness making it sheer against her skin. His tired eyes had to be forcefully pried away from her, and he found himself growing irritated at himself for an unknown reason as he looked away and shook his head. His fingers fumbled to grab his wand once more and he pointed it at her, earning a wide-eyed look of surprise from her before he cast a quick-drying charm, first on her and then on himself. 

Her voice was so tired that it was nearly drowned out by the sound of his own shuffling as she muttered out a quiet, “Thank you,” and lay down onto the couch, pulling the blanket atop herself and shutting her eyes without another word. 

He avoided looking back at her as he glanced at the lights in the room a moment before they turned off, leaving them shrouded in a subtle darkness as he sprawled out on the other couch opposite from her. 

He thought back to their duel. She was a talented witch, that much he had always known. But, what had surprised him this time was not her skill, but rather her carefree elation. For once, she had been dueling not for the sake of fighting for her life, but instead just for enjoyment, and he could see her love for the art through her movements, her laughter, her eyes…

It was strange to see her act so blithe-- he had grown used to her cold and guarded self, and it was a surprising change to see anything else. A part of him wondered if perhaps she used to always be like this-- cheery and untroubled-- before she had been forced to live through hell and back.

The thought made him equal parts curious and unsettled. 

There was a tiny bit of him that was annoyed at how simply she had ultimately disarmed him, yet he was more irritated at himself than at her. He wondered how he had allowed her to catch him so off guard that she could simply snatch his wand out of his hands.

He was better than that. 

But, he was also exhausted, and he told himself that had he not been running off of nothing more than a cup of coffee and absolutely no sleep, then he never would have allowed her to have won that way. He didn’t have the energy to think about it, though.

He didn’t have the energy to do much at all.

So, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift off to sleep. But, as he tried to fall into slumber, his mind couldn’t stray far from the feeling of holding her waist in his hands. 


	22. Chapter 22

Avalon’s eyes fluttered open.

It was dark, though the fireplace in the corner lit up just enough of the room to remind her of where she was. The only sounds that graced her ears were the crackling of the flames and a soft breathing coming from the other couch. 

Her gaze wandered over towards Riddle. The light of the fire contoured his sculpted face, illuminating his slightly parted lips as his chest slowly rose up and down. His dark hair was ruffled across his closed eyes, though somehow the curls remained perfectly intact, as though he were nothing more than a still of a painted portrait. 

In his sleep, he looked uncharacteristically peaceful. There were no defenses, no walls, no lies. No, none of that at all. He was merely an image of solace, and she couldn’t look away. 

The same pang of guilt rose within her as her eyes remained glued to his sleeping figure. He looked so… human. 

And she hated that. 

She hated that he didn’t look like Voldemort. She hated that he didn’t look the slightest thing like that monster. She hated that she knew what he looked like and she fucking hated that his face would haunt her for the rest of her life after she killed him.

But, she didn’t hate that she would be the reason that her friends’ lives would be spared. 

She pried her stare away from him and instead looked at the clock-- 6:30 a.m.

Exhaustion still bore into every ounce of her being. She had only slept for just about two hours, and it wasn’t nearly enough, but she mustered up every last drop of energy she had within her and forced herself to get up. She made sure to move as quietly as she could to avoid waking the Prefect, but her sluggish body made that task significantly more challenging than she had hoped. 

Still, she managed to gather her things and head towards the door, exiting silently and making her way towards Ravenclaw Tower as quickly as her exhausted self could possibly move. 

When she finally got back to her room, she opened her dorm door as slowly as she could. Waking up Zelda was the last thing she wanted to do-- the poor girl’s slumber had been rudely interrupted by Avalon enough times. 

Though, as she walked in, Zelda was already sitting at her vanity, getting ready for class. She spun around quickly, her eyes widening as they landed on Avalon.

“Where the hell have you been?” she cried out, getting to her feet. She looked her disheveled roommate up and down before adding, “I was worried sick!”

Avalon opened her mouth to speak, but only a yawn escaped her lips. She groaned, rubbing her tired eyes and throwing her wand and bag onto her bed before slumping over to her dresser. She felt like a mess. “Finishing that damn project.”

“When I saw the two of you had skipped your classes… Merlin, I thought you and Riddle had finally killed one another,” Zelda said, her voice frazzled. She paused for a moment, her eyes somehow growing even larger before she asked, “You didn’t kill him, did you?”

Avalon let out a weak laugh, shaking her head. “Surprisingly, no.”

Her roommate let out a sigh of relief. “Well, did you at least finish the project?”

“Thankfully, yes,” she said, and it felt bloody good to admit that. “Not too long ago, I finally got it.”

Zelda clapped her hands together excitedly, a wide grin spreading from cheek to cheek. “Ah, love, I’m so proud of you! I bet Riddle was  _ furious _ at that.”

“He was actually quite happy,” Avalon replied. “Probably just because now he knows he will get a good grade.”

“Surely,” Zelda agreed. “Still, I’m glad it was you and not him,” she said with a giggle. “It’s nice to see him finally fail at something.”

Avalon nodded absentmindedly as she rummaged through her dresser, grabbing a fresh change of clothes before excusing herself and making her way towards the bathroom. It felt nice to finally climb into the shower and feel the burning droplets crash against her skin. 

She just stood there, letting the water wash away her exhaustion. The steam pooled around her body, enveloping her in its warm embrace.

Her mind strayed back to the feeling of Riddle’s hand on her waist, her own fingers gracing the skin where his touch had lingered. 

A sudden urge to scrub her skin clean overtook her and she began angrily scraping at her flesh, trying to rid herself of the feeling of his hands holding her tightly, his grip firm yet gentle… 

She scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed until her skin grew red with burning irritation, and even then she could still feel the ghost of his goddamn fingers still pressed against her. Her exhaustion was replaced with nausea. With unease. With disgust.

With anger at herself for staring at that… at that  _ monster _ and feeling  _ guilt _ , of all things. 

He had been pleasant, and she had forgotten that was his game. That was his signature trick. That was his special talent… Wrapping people around his finger as if they were his own.

His goddamn fingers. 

_ Fuck _ .

She ran a hand through her hair, tugging at the ends as the water dripped down her face, cascading down her cheeks in little waterfalls that trickled onto the cold stone ground. 

There was a reason that the entire school loved Tom Riddle. 

He was good-- she would give him that. He was good at pretending to be kind, he was good at pretending he cared, he was good at pretending that he didn’t harbor the darkest corners of humanity all behind those bloody midnight eyes of his. 

Yes, there was definitely a reason that the entire school loved him. And she would not allow herself to fall victim to the same lies. She knew what he was.

And what he was…was a monster. 

So why could she not stop thinking about his goddamn fucking touch?

She shut the water off abruptly, growing lightheaded in the heat of the shower. Her fingers fumbled for her wand before she dried herself off and stepped into fresh clothes, desperate to expunge herself of any and all remaining signs of her past two nights. 

Space. What she needed was space. 

Her mind had become fuddled after two sleepless nights trapped in a room with nobody but Riddle to keep her company while she slowly lost her mind to fatigue. That’s all that this was-- she had been tired, he had been there. That’s it. Nothing more, nothing less.

Giving herself space away from him would be good. Just a day or two where she could get her head back on straight so she could regain her focus. There was absolutely no way that she would allow the Dark Lord himself to meddle with her thoughts. She had a job to do.

And he would not get in her way.

She scrambled back to her room, shaking out her hands as she walked. When she burst through the door, Zelda was already waiting for her and they walked to their first class together, light conversation filling the gaps of silence as they wandered through the castle. 

The classroom was just beginning to fill up when they arrived. 

Her eyes wasted no time scanning for Riddle-- he was not yet there. 

“Darling,” a familiar voice cooed. 

Zelda shot a pointed glare at Xavier as he began making his way over to Avalon. “Merlin, here comes my wonderful partner,” she grumbled, rolling her eyes as she made her way to her seat in the front of the class. 

Xavier passed by her and held his hand up for a high-five. “Hey, Shacks. Ready to turn in our project?”

“Shut it,” she mumbled, walking past him in irritation. He chuckled and high-fived himself before he reached Avalon. His hands instinctively wrapped around her as he pulled her into his chest and placed a kiss atop her forehead, then on her nose, and finally tilted her head up towards him with a gentle finger under her chin and kissed her lips. “I was beginning to think you were avoiding me,” he said, his lips curled into his usual smirk.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Tom walk into the room and make his way over to his seat. 

“I was working on the Transfiguration project with Riddle,” she sighed.

Xavier let go of her abruptly and placed a hand over his heart dramatically as he whipped his head back and forth between Avalon and Tom. He pointed at Tom and said, “Tom, mate, how could you?”

Tom’s eyes were still bloodshot when he tiredly looked up, quipping at eyebrow at Xavier. “What have I done now, Lestrange?”

“Stolen my girlfriend from me for not one, but two nights,” Xavier wailed, earning an eye roll from his friend. 

Avalon let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head and playfully smacking his arm. “Shut up for once, will you?”

“You missed me, admit it,” he grinned, locking their fingers as he led her to their seats.

\----

Tom and Avalon sat side by side, both of them too tired to converse as they watched Dumbledore make his way from desk to desk as students attempted to turn objects into small creatures before him.

So far, no groups had successfully completed the task. Some had made progress-- a pair of Gryffindors had managed to give their book a pair of paws, and a Hufflepuff and her Slytherin partner had grown a quivering rat’s tail on their inkpot-- yet nobody had truly achieved what the project had set out to do.

Zelda and Xavier sat not too far away and Avalon could see Zelda bursting with excitement as Dumbledore neared their desk. Her body was bouncing up and down and she was swinging her feet off her chair as she watched the professor near them. Xavier, on the other hand, was, as usual, nearing sleep as he lazily rested his head on his arms, his hair sprawled out on the desk as he struggled to keep his eyes open.

“Have you tried casting it today?”

She looked over at Riddle, raising an eyebrow at him. “The spell?” He nodded. “No.”

“Are you sure you can still do it?” he asked, a hint of irritation in his voice.

It appeared the normal Riddle was back. 

She narrowed her eyes on him and frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be able to?”

“I’m only trying to make sure-”

“Do you want to do it, then?” she asked, shutting him up. “Because, by all means, be my guest.”

He clenched his jaw, but no more words exited his mouth as the two of them watched Zelda transform the chalice in front of her into a small fox. The entire class let out sounds of disbelief as Zelda’s smile grew to cover her entire face and her partner finally lifted his head from the desk in time to notice all the commotion around him. He raised his hand for another high-five and this time, in her state of euphoria, Zelda halfheartedly pressed her palm to his with a roll of her eyes, which was evidently enough for Xavier as he grinned and leaned back in his chair. 

Even Dumbledore was pleasantly surprised as he congratulated the pair on their success. Avalon reckoned she had never seen her roommate look quite so pleased with herself before. Zelda’s smile made Avalon happy. The girl was a true Ravenclaw through and through. It was a refreshing change from the Slytherins she had been spending all of her time with recently. 

Finally, the time came for their professor to stand in front of Tom and Avalon’s table. “Miss Hendrix, Mr. Riddle. I’ve been keen to see your progress on this assignment.”

Avalon held her wand in her hands and stared at the coin before her. It didn’t help with her nerves to feel Riddle’s gaze drilling daggers into the side of her head, as though he were daring her to mess this up for him. 

She took in a deep breath and pointed her wand at the coin, stating the spell and watching as it turned into a white dove once more. 

The first thing she heard was Zelda’s excited squeal. The second was Riddle’s relieved sigh.

Xavier whistled before shouting out, “That’s my girl!”

Dumbledore smiled as he watched the dove spread its wings and fly across the room, earning a mixed reaction of cheers and groans from their classmates who realized that another pair had successfully completed the task. A couple of students whispered among themselves, surprised that it had not been Riddle who had performed the spell. Dumbledore spoke to Tom directly as he quietly asked, “Mr. Riddle, would you care to try the spell, as well?”

Avalon saw Tom force a tight-lipped smile as he shook his head and answered curtly, “No, sir.” The two words pained him to say, she could tell. And evidently, so could Dumbledore. 

“That’s quite alright,” the professor said, his voice only loud enough for the two of them to hear over the commotion of the rest of the classroom. “Congratulations to you both. Miss Hendrix, I’m glad to see you were able to grasp the key to this kind of magic.” He paused for a moment before asking, a faint smile on his lips as he spoke, “Was it my advice that shifted your perspective, or did you have an epiphany on your own?”

Her mind flashed with the memory of how she had locked eyes with Riddle when the two of them had fallen atop each other. His eyes… 

Dumbledore’s smile grew, a knowing glint in his gaze as she replied, “Practice made perfect, sir.”

“Ah, of course,” he said, nodding slowly. “Nevertheless, excellent job. I’m very proud of you both, and I look forward to seeing you Saturday morning.”

The two of them looked at each other, confusion on their faces, before Tom spoke. “Saturday, sir?”

“Yes, yes. Headmaster Dippet was kind enough to let me know that the two of you did choose to spend your day working on this project rather than attending your classes yesterday. While I commend your dedication, he wanted me to inform you both that he expects to see you in detention this weekend.”

Avalon was partially angry, yet equally amused as she watched Riddle brink a mental breakdown. She wondered if this was the first time he had ever gotten detention in his life-- something about the way he was glaring at Dumbledore made her confident that it was.

“Sir-” Riddle began, though the professor cut him off.

“I’m afraid his mind had been made up. You may both report to me for details of your disciplinary task Saturday at 7.” And, without another word, he walked towards the next table, leaving Tom glaring at him from behind. 

Avalon chuckled in disbelief to herself and Riddle’s stare turned towards her. “What?” he asked, annoyance evident in his voice.

“As if I haven’t had to spend enough time with you,” she said, shaking her head. 

He shook his head and rolled his eyes, but neither one of them said anything more as they watched the dove land back on the table in front of them. 


	23. Chapter 23

Avalon’s legs felt like dragging a ton of bricks as she slowly lugged her way throughout the castle. She rubbed at her eyes, trying-- and failing-- to rid the exhaustion from her body. 

Going to detention at the crack of dawn on a Saturday was not how she had hoped to spend her weekend. A drawn-out yawn dragged out of her lips as she neared the kitchen entrance. 

She half-heartedly reached out and tickled the pear on the painting, revealing the doorknob and shoving her way in. The smell of freshly baked breakfast sweets hit her nose the moment she entered, and a short-lived burst of energy entered her body as she breathed in the delectable aromas. 

“Miss Hendrix! Miss Hendrix!”

Her head whipped around and a bright smile lit up her face as she saw the two house-elves, Bonsey and Tossy, that she had met when she came with Avery, running towards her with outstretched arms. They each latched onto one of her legs, hugging her tightly as soon as they reached her. 

“Good morning to you both!” she said, bending down and giving them each a hug. 

Their feeble arms embraced her excitedly before Bonsey said, “Nobody has ever given Bonsey a hug before!”

“Tossy and Bonsey missed Miss Hendrix!” Tossy said, jumping up and down with a wide smile on his face. 

They turned at the sound of the door, and in walked Riddle, his eyes landing on the two house-elves and Avalon. Bonsey and Tossy quickly took a step away from Avalon, the smiles on their faces immediately falling as Riddle approached, and they shifted their gaze sadly to the ground before them. 

He looked at the elves for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing before he spat out, “Are you just going to stand there?”

They scrambled off without another word, running away as fast as they could as they went back towards the food preparation. Avalon turned towards Riddle with a deep scowl on her face, returned only by a cold stare from him. He rolled his eyes. “What?”

“There’s no need to be a prick,” she hissed, shaking her head. 

Before he could say anything else, the two elves came scurrying back. Tossy kept his eyes on the floor as he held out a cup of black coffee to Tom. “Your usual coffee, Mr. Riddle.”

Tom took the cup from the elf’s hands before taking a sip. Had it not been for Avalon glaring hatefully at him, he would have left the kitchen without another word, but instead he grumbled, “What is it now?”

“Say thank you,” she snarled, smacking him across the chest, making him nearly choke on his coffee. His dark eyes narrowed at her, but he refused to acknowledge her request as he continued to drink from the steaming cup. Avalon let out an irritated huff before turning to the elves and saying with a smile, “Thank you.”

Bonsey looked up at her shyly before asking, “Would Miss Hendrix like anything, as well?”

“A blueberry lemon scone and a cup of coffee with cream and sugar would be splendid, if that’s possible,” she requested. 

Bonsey nodded, her smile returning to her lips. “Yes, of course! Bonsey will get that right away,” she said before darting off once more, Tossy following close behind. 

“Cream and sugar?” Tom scoffed. 

“Believe it or not, some of us prefer things to taste pleasant,” she retorted, staring disgustedly at his half-finished cup of black coffee. Aside from the house-elves, nobody else was in the kitchen. It was far too early on a weekend for anyone else to be awake. Even Tom, himself, looked as though he were still ridden with sleep as he stretched out his arms. 

The two elves returned and Bonsey happily held out a tray with a cup of mocha-colored coffee and a scone. Avalon gratefully took the sweet and the drink before grinning and politely saying, “Thank you very much.”

“Anything for Miss Hendrix,” Bonsey replied cheerfully before catching Tom’s eyes once more and looking down again, quickly scurrying off with Tossy as they returned back to their duties. 

Avalon sighed and took a bite of the scone, washing it down with a gulp of her sweetened coffee. Tom was eyeing her cup curiously and she groaned. “You have that look on your face where I know you’re brewing something stupid in your brain. Out with it.”

“Is there even coffee in there or is it just cream?” he asked. 

“There’s coffee,” she scoffed, drinking some more before whispering, “Personally, I’d have put some more sugar, but I’m not going to bother Tossy and Bonsey for that.”

He shook his head, but she saw a hint of an amused smile on his lips as he finished his cup and set it on the table next to them. She downed her drink as well before they made their way out of the kitchen. She caught Tossy and Bonsey’s eyes one last time as she was leaving and waved at them, watching as they grinned back happily as Tom shut the door behind them and cut off her view of the two kind elves. 

“So first you talk to muggle-borns, and now the house-elves?” he asked skeptically as they strode down the hallway. 

She made sure to swallow her mouthful of scone before replying, “I’d much rather talk to them than you, yet here we are.”

“I’m not thrilled about your company, either,” he grumbled. 

“And yet it  _ is _ your fault that we have detention today,” she noted. “If I do recall correctly, I warned you that we’d get in trouble for skipping classes, and you chose to ignore everything I said.” She could see him growing irritated. His steps were becoming quicker and quicker and she found it hard to keep up with his long strides. “Honestly, have you ever gotten detention before?”

“No,” he replied, almost reluctantly. 

She chuckled. “For such an awful person, you really are a goody-two-shoes.”

He let out a huff of agitation as they continued their walk to Dumbledore’s office. When they finally arrived, Tom held the door open for her and she walked in, spotting their Transfiguration professor sitting at his desk, popping licorice snaps into his mouth while he examined a small object in his hands. When he saw the two of them walk in, he smiled and stood, meeting them in the center of the classroom. “Ah, Miss Hendrix, Mr. Riddle. Good morning.” Avalon glanced at his hands and noticed he was holding the golden coin that she had transformed into a dove earlier that week. 

“Good morning, sir,” Avalon said, though Tom merely opted to nod. She looked at him with a pointed stare, narrowing her eyes at his cold silence. “Aren’t you going to say good morning?”

Tom forced a plastic smile before looking at Dumbledore as he sarcastically said, “My apologies. Perhaps my mind is still tired. It is only 7, after all.”

Avalon turned her body to face Tom. “Oh, so now you have a problem waking up early? As if you didn’t make me stay up all night with you-”

He cut her off, shifting to look her dead in the eyes. “Must you never stop talkin-”

“All you had to do was say a bloody greetin-”

“Merlin-”

“I swear, you have absolutely no manners-”

“As if you’re the peak of etiquette-”

“What’s that supposed to fucking mean-”

“Well you’re not exactly the bloody Queen,” he snarled.

Dumbledore cleared his throat, though there was a subtle hint of a smile written on his lips. At the sound, they both turned back to face their professor and grumbled out in unison, “Sorry, Professor.”

“Oh, it’s quite alright. I’ve found that people feel most disquieted when they see their reflection outside of a mirror,” he said. 

Avalon found it impossible to mask the frown that had settled onto her face. “Excuse me?”

“I suppose I never thought I would see the day in which Mr. Riddle met his match.”

It was Tom’s turn to frown. “Excuse me?”

Avalon hastily said, “Sir, if you are insinuating that I am at all like-”

Dumbledore chuckled, cutting her off as he tossed the coin up in the air and caught it in his other hand. “I am not insinuating anything, Miss Hendrix. Only pointing out that the two sides of a coin have different faces, yet are made of the same gold.”

Avalon scoffed in disbelief. She stuttered on her sentence for a few moments before finally crying out, “ _ Please _ tell me you didn’t partner us for that project just to make an inaccurate coin metaphor.” She looked at Tom, for once hoping that he would speak up, too, but instead, he merely stood there looking at Dumbledore as though there was nothing more he wanted to do in that moment than throttle the smiling professor. 

Dumbledore chuckled. “Anyhow, the two of you are surely going to be running late for your detention. You may report to the west edge of the Forbidden Forest where you will find our finest Herbology student, Miss Bell, waiting for you. She will assist you and others in collecting ingredients for Professor Slughorn.” Avalon let out a groan before she turned around and stomped off, making her way towards the door as a string of choice swear words flew out of her lips. Tom shook his head and began to follow after her when Dumbledore reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, holding the coin out in his extended palm. Tom rolled his eyes before reluctantly taking it out of the wizard’s hands and shoving it in his pocket, turning around and making his way to the exit, leaving the room in an agitated hurry. 

As they made their way towards the Forest, they walked in a tense silence. The grounds were engulfed in a gloomy autumn fog, the changing colors of the leaves serving as a November rainbow amid a sea of gray mist. The air was cool and the sun was just barely peeking out over the horizon, though it illuminated the dewdrops settled atop the dying blades of grass beneath them as she stared grudgingly at the ground, kicking several small pebbles that crossed her path. 

Tom watched as Avalon trudged along, a deeply set scowl engraved onto her face. He didn’t know what the bloody hell Dumbledore was rambling on about. To compare him to Hendrix felt like an insult-- it  _ was _ an insult. 

She was mumbling profanity after profanity as she walked, sending ill-tempered curses at their professor with every step she took and Tom found himself growing more and more agitated that he had been compared to her childish, crass, calloused self. 

Hendrix and Dumbledore were an unbearable pair for Tom. They both acted as though they knew things that he did not, and it drove him near mad. And, the bloody professor, who had never seemed to like Tom, seemed to speak to Hendrix as if she were his equal, while Hendrix spoke back to him as though he were an old friend. It seemed unlikely that the two had grown so close in the few months since Hendrix had arrived at Hogwarts, and Tom found himself wondering what the two of them were hiding. 

Dumbledore had always been the only person who Tom could never quite understand how to control… until, of course, Hendrix decided to show up out of nowhere and make his life all the more difficult. And both of them irked him like no other. 

Spending time with Hendrix in the Room of Requirement had clouded Tom’s judgement. The following days had been spent trying to get her off of his mind, with no real success for quite some time. Though, with distance came clarity, and he found himself reminded of how bothersome she truly was as the days dragged on and the vision of catching her in his arms became nothing more than a blurry memory. 

The pair began to see a delicate figure in the distance, perched atop a large rock surrounded by a bed of white flowers as she gently swayed her feet over the ground. When she saw them approaching, Clara smiled and hopped off the rock, waving excitedly to Avalon. “Hello,” she greeted them, her voice airy and kind. 

“Good morning,” Avalon smiled back. 

“Morning,” Tom said coldly. 

“I’m surprised to see the two of you here today,” Clara admitted. 

“I could say the same,” Avalon replied. 

The strawberry-blonde girl shrugged. “I help Professor Slughorn gather ingredients once a month and in exchange, he has been mentoring me in regards to brewing potions out of the plants that I grow. It’s quite kind of him, really.”

“Well, I’m glad if I have to spend my morning in detention, at least there’s one pleasant person here with me,” Avalon said, shooting Tom a glare as she spoke. 

Their attention was shaken by Mulciber’s voice calling out, “Look who it is!”

Mulciber, Nott, and Avery joined their group, the three of them looking at Tom and Avalon and doubling over in laughter. “Finally landed yourself in trouble, mate?” Nott asked Tom, incapable of hiding the grin on his lips. 

“What are the three of you doing here?” Avalon asked. 

“Pringle caught us practicing on the pitch after hours and busted us,” Avery said, a subtle smile on his lips. He looked at Clara for a moment, a twinkle in his eyes, though the glance was so short-lived that Avalon knew nobody had seen it but her. 

Clara pulled a neatly folded piece of paper out of her pocket and held it up before saying, “Professor Slughorn gave me a list of all the things he would like you all to collect. If you need any help finding anything, or want to know more about any of the plants, please feel free to ask me.”

The smiles on Nott and Mulciber’s faces turned to nothing the moment Clara spoke. It was as though they became two entirely different people the instant that they were reminded that they were in the presence of anyone other than a pureblood. 

Avalon took the paper from Clara’s hands and offered her a smile. “Thank you,” she said as she unraveled the sheet and looked at the list. “Most of these are found a little deeper in the Forest, are they not?”

Clara nodded. “Just a little. It is still safe, though. I walk the area all the time to study the plants. It’s okay, as long as you don’t go too far in, of course.”

The two girls strode ahead of the group and began leading them into the Forest, engaged in small talk as they made their way towards their destination. The boys all clumped together and trailed behind, making sure to keep their distance.

“They couldn’t even send a Prefect… had to send Bell to keep an eye on us,” Mulciber grumbled. 

“We have a Prefect right here, but unfortunately he’s just another delinquent for the day,” Nott chuckled, nudging Tom’s shoulder. “What did you do to end up here?”

“Hendrix and I skipped classes,” he answered, earning two sets of raised brows from Nott and Mulciber so he added, “to finish a project.”

“Figures you’d get in trouble for breaking the rules to do homework,” Mulciber laughed. “Have any more luck with Hendrix than Lestrange has?”

Orion smacked Demitri across the shoulder, shooting him an angry glare. “Knock it off, you prick.”

Demitri rolled his eyes and called out to Avalon. “Hey, Hendrix!”

She looked over her shoulder. “What is it, Mulciber?”

“You hear that your old school might start only admitting purebloods?” he said, a sinister smirk on his lips as he shot a look at the back of Clara’s head. 

“If only Hogwarts would have taken a note out of their book, eh?” Nott chuckled. 

“Will you two shut it?” Orion said, shaking his head. 

Avalon turned around and walked backward, staring at Mulciber and Nott when she said, “I heard Hogwarts is going to start only admitting intelligent people. You two will be missed.”

The two of them laughed, paying no mind to her insult as they returned to their conversation and she once more walked alongside Clara. Mulciber spoke to the boys when he said, “Mudblood is a fitting title, don’t you think? Seeing as she spends all her time digging in the dirt looking for Merlin-knows-what.”

There was a downcast look on Clara’s face, but she did her best to hide it as she kept her head down and kept walking. Avalon turned around just in time to see Avery open his mouth, about to tell off his friends, when she quickly spoke up and snarled, “Watch your fucking mouth.”

Demitri nudged Axel, an arrogant smile plastered on both of their lips. As soon as he opened his mouth to say something back, Tom said, “The sooner the two of you learn to be quiet, the sooner we will all be out of here. So, I suggest you shut your mouths.” His tone was more of a command than anything else, and their smiles wiped off their faces immediately. 

Avery sighed and walked up to Avalon, taking the list of items out of her hands. “This is going to take forever.”

“Why don’t we split up?” Avalon suggested. “We will be able to find everything faster and get out of here quicker.”

“Wonderful,” Mulciber said, clapping his hands together. “Seventh years in one group, sixth years in the other. We’ll find the first half of the list, you lot focus on the second.”

Avalon sent a wistful look between Orion and Clara. She had been hoping that her suggestion would have ended with the three of them going off together while the other boys retreated, though it appeared she was once again stuck with Riddle… as usual. 

She opened her mouth, ready to protest, but Nott cut her off as he yanked Avery backward, throwing an arm around his shoulder and the other around Mulciber. “Let’s go, boys!” he called out as they walked off. 

“Forgetting something?” Avalon called out. They stopped in their tracks and turned around, shooting her a confused look. “You took the list, morons.”

Avery’s mouth formed an ‘o’ and he quickly tore the list down the middle, jogging back over and handing half to her. “Good luck,” he said with a smile on his face before he waved and joined the boys once more. 

She watched them walk away with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach as she was forced to come to terms with the realization that she would have to spend more time with Riddle. Though, as she looked at Clara, a small sense of her joy came back into her. She exuded kindness from head to toe-- there was an undeniable light that gleamed in her aura and Avalon found herself glad to be in her warm company. 

“Shall we get started?” she asked, earning an excited nod from Clara and a huff from Riddle.

He trailed behind the two girls as they walked further into the forest. The trees towered over them like rising behemoths from an unknown world, their towering shadows casting darkness over them the deeper they went. The sounds of the critters waking up to a new day chirped away at their ears, echoing through with every hoot and howl. Avalon and Clara were chatting together, but Tom didn’t bother to listen to their conversation. 

He merely watched them from behind, taking note of the stark differences between the two girls. Bell strode delicately through the forest, her feet barely touching the ground as her feather-light steps gracefully took her forward. Hendrix was a walking catastrophe. Her footsteps were loud, rugged, and abrasive to his ears every time she marched along. She walked with her shoulders back and her chin held high, eyeing her surroundings as though she were in the midst of a battle and ready to pounce into attack. 

Hendrix was unlike any of the other girls at Hogwarts. No, it was more than that. She was unlike any other girls Tom had ever met. She didn’t have Bell’s gentleness-- Hendrix was anything but. She didn’t have Shacklebolt’s control-- there was rarely a time she didn’t act upon her anger. She didn’t have Greengrass’ etiquette-- despite Hendrix’s apparent pureblood status, she did not exhibit the same class that most of them were raised to portray. She didn’t even have Patil’s vanity-- which he actually found quite surprising. 

As much as he despised Hendrix, Tom was also not blind. She exuded an effortless type of beauty that was impossible to deny, yet she chose to place her worth in her mind rather than her appearance. When she had arrived into the Great Hall on the first day of school, nearly every boy at Hogwarts had immediately been drawn to her allure, though most had the sense to understand that Hendrix was a rare type of beautiful that was better admired from afar. 

Her eyes were the only windows of truth that she had, and behind her stare were the visions of darkness that plagued her spirit. She reminded him of a storm-- glorious to watch from a distance, yet far too dangerous to be in its throes. He knew that there was a reason why Lestrange had been instantly enchanted by her from the moment he first laid eyes on her, and it was because the wealthy fool did not fear darkness as many others did. 

There was no hint of gentleness within her. She wasn’t delicate or dainty-- she was dauntless. But, her differences did not end there. Yes, she  _ was _ different-- there was no denying that. But it was more than just being unique. It was almost as though she did not belong… as if she were constantly out of place. She kept secrets-- that much he had always known-- but the more time he spent with her, the more he began to wonder to what extent her secrets truly went. 

Nothing about her made any sense. He couldn’t understand how she had seen through him from the first moment they had met. He couldn’t understand why she had been a target of so many war crimes when she was barely old enough to be a part of a war. He couldn’t understand why he could find no record of her last name anywhere, no matter how hard he looked.

He had considered multiple possibilities about her… he thought that she could have been a refugee of the war, perhaps aided by Dumbledore, himself, in a quest to conceal her from the enemies that she had made. He thought that she could be a Seer, or perhaps more gifted at Legilimens than she let on. Though, no matter how hard he contemplated the possibilities, none of them quite seemed to explain all of her oddities. 

While he trailed far behind them, Clara and Avalon spoke together in hushed voices. “What are the odds Avery finds himself in detention the same day you’re volunteering?” Avalon asked slyly. 

Clara let out a soft laugh. “It seems that every time I tell him that I will be supervising detention, he somehow lands himself into trouble that same day. I suppose his friends found themselves wrapped up in his plot this time, too.”

Avalon thought about Nott and Mulciber a moment before saying, “He wanted to defend you. He wanted to tell them off so badly, I could see it.”

“I know,” Clara nodded. “But, I’ve insisted that he doesn’t. He and I both know it’s safer if we keep everything tightly under wraps. We don’t know how they would react if they were even suspicious of us. I appreciate you speaking up, though.”

“No need to thank me, it was really the least I could do,” Avalon insisted. 

Clara watched her with a curious glimmer in her soft brown eyes. “You are never afraid to speak up for yourself or others. I admire that about you.”

Avalon shook her head modestly, “You give me far too much credit.”

However, Clara’s eyes skirted momentarily to the scars that were strewn across Avalon’s skin, peeking out from underneath the sleeves of her coat before she said, “I don’t think you’re given nearly enough.” She paused a moment before saying, “I don’t know the struggles you have overcome, but it is abundantly clear that you are an unbelievably strong person. Forgive me if I am overstepping… but sometimes I notice that you seem to feel out of place. For what it’s worth, I’m very glad that you’re here.”

Avalon found it impossible to choose the right words to respond with. She opened her mouth several times, trying to express her gratitude for the kind words, yet everything seemed to fall short. It was amazing how much Clara picked up on-- it was as though she was in tune with everyone around her on a level of empathy and awareness that most people could never dream of achieving. Her heart was gold, Avalon was sure of it. She finally said, “Thank you. From the bottom of my heart, I mean that.”

The strawberry-blond smiled warmly back at her and gently placed a hand on her upper arm in comfort. She opened her mouth to speak when her attention was grabbed by something over Avalon’s shoulder. “Goodness, that’s Foxglove!” she exclaimed. Her face lit up with sheer excitement and Avalon turned to see a cluster of flowers, purple and grey, off in the distance. “It’s a very rare plant,” Clara said breathlessly, already beginning her trek towards it. “Would the two of you mind if I caught up with you in a bit? I want to go examine it up close.”

“Please, go ahead,” Avalon nodded. “We’ll just be a little deeper in the forest.”

“I’ll find you!” Clara said as she started prancing towards the plant, a hop in her step as she excitedly ran off into the distance. 

As Avalon and Tom were once again left alone, she reluctantly turned and faced him, though he still strayed a great distance away from her. She raised an eyebrow and glared at him. “Are you just going to sulk back there?”

“Forgive me for not wanting to listen to your heart-to-heart,” he muttered as he caught up and they continued to go deeper into the forest. 

“That makes sense,” she mused, “seeing as you’re heartless and all.”

His eyes narrowed on her grudgingly before he coldly said, “Hilarious.”

She plastered on a fake smile and said in a sing-song voice, “Thank you.”

“Give me the list,” he grumbled, snatching it out of her hands, earning an annoyed huff. He scanned the paper before saying, “Most of these grow in damp areas. Try checking at the base of trees or near any pools of water that you find.”

“Thank you, Professor,” she said sarcastically as she made her way over towards an enclave of nearby trees, crouching down and examining their bases to see if she could find the small plants they were searching for. “If you’re so good at Herbology, why aren’t you taking the class?”

“I don’t have the time in my schedule to take every class I excel in, Hendrix.”

She shook her head before jokingly saying, “I think you just didn’t want to be second best to Clara.” He tensed a bit at the statement and her eyes widened as a grin stretched across her face. “Wait… no bloody way! You were second best, weren’t you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he hissed, though the agitation in his voice was a tell-tale sign. 

“Oh, that is rich. Herbology, of all things. Of course you’d struggle in the one class where the only objective is keeping something alive,” she chuckled.

“If you honestly think I’d let a mudbl-”

“Don’t say that,” she snapped, standing and turning to face him. “I don’t know how you buy into that idiotic ideology. I refuse to believe that a half-blood could be so stupid to think blood-status means anything. Especially when you’re one of the strongest wizards at this school. You’re smarter than that.”

“Don’t you dare say that out loud,” he snarled, advancing on her at the mention of his own blood-status. 

She met his eyes, challenging his gaze with her own as she hissed, “That you’re a half-blood?”

The sentence had barely left her lips when she felt him shove her against the closest tree, his body towering over hers as he pinned her arms against the rough bark. She felt the wind get knocked out of her lungs at the impact, but did her best to appear unphased as she kept his dark gaze locked with her own, refusing to back down. His voice was so icy that it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up when he said, “I will make the things you’ve been through seem like child’s play.”

“Get your hands off of me,” she growled, thrashing against him, though his grip was tight and unrelenting. She felt his fingers dig deeper into her arms, so tightly that she squirmed under his touch, letting out a small yelp of pain as his touch branded her flesh with soon-to-be bruises. And, just as she was about to open her mouth and scream, he stepped away and painted a plastic smile onto his lips as he looked over her shoulder at Clara, who was making her way back towards them. 

The sudden switch in his behavior was chilling, and Avalon nervously swallowed the growing lump in her throat, letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding in. Before she turned to face Clara, she took a moment to compose herself, trying to shake off the unease that had settled over her. 

Tom’s smile didn’t reach his dark eyes, and he had a sinister look in his gaze when his hands darted towards her face, making her flinch at the proximity. But he only grabbed something off of the tree trunk behind her, holding her stare when he smirked and said, “I believe this is one of the ingredients we’re looking for.”

They continued looking for ingredients for another hour, working in a tense silence as Avalon avoided Tom’s watchful eyes. They found all but one of the ingredients, and were all nearing their last ounce of patience as they looked for Jewelweed. He watched her scour the forest as she searched for the plant, only pausing a few times to engage in light conversation with Bell. 

He reckoned this was the most silent he had seen her in quite some time. Though, he was sure that just like times before, she would move past her anger in due time and go right back to her usual self. And perhaps that was the most infuriating thing about her-- she didn’t know when to back down. She just pushed and she pushed and she pushed until he finally snapped. 

He hated how she knew exactly how to get under his skin. Tom knew that he was capable of violence, but he typically chose to use it in a calculated manner, only acting on his anger when he could use it to his advantage. But, with Hendrix, he lost control of himself. His outbursts were not deliberate or methodical, but rather moments of weakness in which he allowed her to force his hand and act on his emotions rather than his logic. 

As much as he tried to ignore it, the truth was that she affected him in a way that nobody else ever had. She made him erratic, impulsive… weak.

She made him weak. 

He felt like he would take one step forward with her, and then five steps back. They had been making progress in the Room of Requirement, but every time he began to get closer to her-- closer to being able to have her open up to him-- he would only push her away once more.

What bothered him the most about Hendrix was not how she didn’t know when to hold her tongue, but rather the way he allowed her to say things to him that others would be killed for even thinking. And, what was even worse was that when she said them, he was forced to listen. 

Her words echoed in his mind: now, tomorrow, forever. And it irked him to no extent. He couldn’t get her damn voice out of his head, and he was forced to listen to her over and over again until he was left no choice but to think about what she had said. 

‘ _ You’re smarter than that.’ _

He hated how she spoke to him like she saw through all the walls he had built up. He hated how she acted as though she knew him better than he knew himself. He hated that a part of him was beginning to think that there may be a hint of truth in her words…

No.

He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. 

No. That was nonsense. This was nonsense. Everything about Hendrix was nonsense. 

Why didn’t he believe that?

No. 

_ Fuck _ . 

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of approaching laughter and he looked up to see Avery, Nott, and Mulciber approaching, their pockets filled to the brim with a variety of plants. 

“Hello, darling children,” Mulciber grinned at the sixth years. “Did you miss us?”

“Did you find your half of the list?” Avalon asked, ignoring his comment. 

Orion nodded. “Indeed we did. How about yourselves?”

“Just looking for the last one. Feel free to look for some Jewelweed while you’re here. When we find that, we’ll be done,” she replied. 

Nott chuckled. “Look at us, boys. We did something better than Riddle.”

Tom glanced at him and rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help but wordlessly send a gust of air towards Axel as he walked, tripping him onto the ground with a startled groan. 

Avalon once again joined Clara as the two of them searched the forest floor for the last ingredient. “Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?” she asked Clara. 

“Honestly, probably return to the forest a little later and see if I can get a sample of the Foxglove I saw earlier,” she replied. 

“Don’t you think it’s dangerous to wander the Forest alone?”

Clara shook her head. “I come here all the time. As long as you don’t go too deep, the creatures that lurk the area won’t stray into the outskirts.”

Avalon was about to respond when a dozen yellow butterflies fluttered around the two of them, one landing atop Clara’s nose and another on Avalon’s shoulder. They both shared a knowing look and giggled before glancing inconspicuously towards Orion, who had a soft smile painted on his lips as he avoided their eyes. 

“Is this it?” Nott’s voice echoed. 

Clara turned around and saw him holding up a clump of Jewelweed. The butterflies around them slowly fluttered into the air once more as the two of them made their way towards the Seeker and Clara took the plant from him. “That’s the one.” She took a bag out from her coat pocket and placed the Jewelweed into it before saying, “If you would all put the ingredients into my bag, I will take it back to Professor Slughorn and inform him that you all served your detention.”

The boys all pulled their ingredients out from their pockets and shoved them into Clara’s bag-- Nott and Mulciber avoiding her eyes as they did so-- before Avalon put her own contributions in and smiled. “I suppose that wasn’t too bad.”

“I could think of worse ways to spend my morning,” Clara laughed as they began making their way back towards the castle. 

Avalon could feel Riddle’s eyes drilling holes into the back of her head as she walked, but she didn’t dare turn to face him. 

She knew that pushing him was a dangerous game, but she found herself incapable of stopping herself. It was almost as though she wanted to prove to herself that he was as bad as she wanted him to be, so she had to keep forcing him to act on his impulses. 

It wasn’t enough that she knew what he would one day become: she had to know that he was already beyond repair. And it bothered her that she needed that extra validation, but she couldn’t look at him without feeling a sinking feeling in her stomach at how she would soon end his life. 

Her guilt was a weakness, and she knew that. There was no room in her plan for regret, hesitation, or fear. She had a job that she had to do, and there was nothing more to it. 

But he made her scared, unsure… weak. 

He made her weak. 


	24. Chapter 24

“Chips are the best form of the potato,” Avalon said as she popped one into her mouth. 

Zelda shook her head. “Absolutely not. Mashed potatoes are easily their superior.”

“Are you mad?” Avalon frowned, taken aback by her friend’s bold dinnertime statement. “That’s absolute rubbish, Z.”

“Love, I hate to be the one to break it to you, but even you have the capability to be wrong sometimes.”

“I’m always right,” she shrugged with a playful roll of her eyes. 

“Keep telling yourself that,” her roommate chuckled. 

Several days had passed since Avalon had detention with the Slytherins, and for the most part, things had been relatively quiet. Most of her time had been spent catching up on schoolwork or trying to help Zelda come up with a way to ask Jane to the Yule Ball. With just over a month until the dance, the castle had been alight with excitement as students began to get asked by their friends, lovers, and crushes to be their dates. Everywhere she looked, nervous boys were huddled together staring at their crushes, while giggling groups of girls clumped around their friends as they showed off their bouquets to each other moments after being asked. 

She had found herself in an awfully good mood. Memories of the Yule Ball back in her own time made her heart flutter with the thought of helping her friends figure out creative ways to find dates, dress-shopping with the girls, and the hours prior to the dance when they all got ready together.

It had been a much simpler time-- one that she longed for dearly. 

She let out a wistful sigh before returning her attention to dinner. “Will you pass me the...” Her words trailed off as a rose petal fell onto her plate… followed by another… and another.

She looked up at the ceiling and furrowed her brows at the sight of crimson petals raining down atop the entire Great Hall. A chorus of confused murmurs erupted from students all around as they all curiously eyed the flowers that had begun to drop delicately onto their plates. 

“Oh… my… God…” Zelda muttered, her words turning into laughter as Avalon looked at her quizzically. Zelda didn’t answer her, but merely pointed to Xavier, who had begun making his way to the front of the Hall. He was dressed in formal wear, his black dress shirt loosely unbuttoned as he marched up the stairs to the High Table where the professors sat. Dippet and Merrythought were deep in conversation in front of the Headmaster’s podium, but the cheeky heir gently weaseled his way between the two of them, interrupting their discussion as he put his wand to his neck and projected his voice throughout the hall. 

Avalon felt her cheeks begin to burn bright red as he spoke. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention?”

From the Slytherin table, Mulciber yelled back, “Do we have a choice?”

Xavier shook his head, “Not even the slightest bit!” Headmaster Dippet put a stern hand on Xavier’s shoulder, and Merrythought opened her mouth to protest, but Xavier quickly scurried away from them before they could object, running over to Ravenclaw’s table and jumping up atop it, earning a string of strongly-worded protests from the students sitting there. “Pardon me,” he chuckled as he walked along the table, forcing the students to quickly pull their plates away before he stepped into their meals. “I’m sure you are all wondering why I’m up here right now,” he began. 

“I’m leaving,” Avalon said, attempting to stand up, only to be dragged back down by a cackling Zelda. 

“Absolutely not, this is rich,” her roommate said between gasps of air as she tried to contain her laughter. 

“Well, as I’m sure you all know, the Yule Ball is coming up soon,” he said, his voice echoing through the room. “And, naturally, as the best looking bloke at this school, I had to ask the most beautiful girl to be my date… thankfully, she also happens to be my girlfriend!”

“I’m going to murder him,” Avalon grumbled. She looked around the room, trying to shy away from the countless eyes that were currently glued on her. Her eyes landed on Xavier’s group of friends, sitting at the Slytherin table. All the boys were howling with laughter as their friend suavely pranced atop Ravenclaw’s table, his green eyes scanning the benches for Avalon. Even Riddle had an amused smirk on his lips when she caught his eye a moment before hiding her face in her hands as Xavier made his way closer to where she and Zelda were sitting. 

When his eyes finally landed on her, a bright grin lit up his face and he raced over, accidentally kicking a cup of water into a nearby first year’s lap, though he paid it no mind and instead stood on the table right in front of Avalon and her roommate. “Avalon Hendrix! Darling, will you give me the honor of being my date to the Yule Ball?” She stared at him, speechless, as he awaited an answer. “Don’t keep the people waiting, love,” he chuckled.

“Merlin, you’re unbelievable,” she sighed.

“Is that a yes?”

“Fine.”

“She said yes!” he yelled out, the entire Hall erupting with applause as he extended his hand out for her to grab. She shook her head, her eyes widening, but Zelda shoved her shoulder and Avalon reluctantly took Xavier’s hand as he pulled her up onto the table with him a moment before he conjured a bouquet of red roses out from thin air and gave it to her. She shook her head, but a smile had found its way onto her lips and he just chuckled as he dipped her down and gave her a kiss on the lips, his fist triumphantly rising into the air behind them as his friends hollered from their nearby table.

He kept his lips pressed against hers for a few more moments before pulling away and grinning to himself as he ran a hair through his unruly brown curls. Avalon looked around the room, her face flushed with an uncharacteristically rosy embarrassment as her flustered gaze once again landed on Riddle. His previous smirk had succumbed to nothing more than a cold stare as he watched her. When their eyes met, he looked away, instead taking a sip from his cup as he avoided her gaze, but she could see his jaw clenched as he drank.

“Mr. Lestrange,” Headmaster Dippet said, clearing his throat from the podium and silencing the entire Hall. “While your display was… entertaining… you have still left me no choice but-”

Xavier rolled his eyes and cut him off, “Yeah, yeah. Detention. I know the drill,” he said as he jumped off the table and grabbed Avalon’s waist as he guided her down after him. He laced their fingers together and began dragging her off towards Slytherin’s table. She sent an apologetic look towards a still-cackling Zelda before following him over to where his friends sat. 

He sat down in a space between Riddle and Avery and pulled her down beside him, kissing her on the cheek. She set the bouquet of roses on the table and turned to face Orion with a raised brow. “Tell me you didn’t know about this.”

“For better or worse, I was entirely unaware,” he chuckled. 

“You really outdid yourself, mate,” Mulciber said, shaking his head amusedly at Xavier. 

Rosalie turned to her boyfriend and said, “If you dare ask me like that, I swear I will make you go to the Ball alone.”

“Noted,” Axel laughed. 

“What goes on in your head when you come up with these ideas?” Kyra asked, disbelief in her voice. She was sitting on Riddle’s other side, opposite from Axel and Rosalie.

“Nothing goes on in his head,” Rosier answered. “That’s the problem.”

“Is it crazy, or is it genius? I personally lean towards the latter,” Xavier said, shrugging. 

“It’s definitely just crazy,” Avalon said, taking a cup and filling it with water before taking a drink.

“Crazy is better than stupid,” Xavier noted.

“Last I checked, you were both,” Tom said, the out-of-character joke making Avalon nearly choke on her drink as she held back a laugh. 

The boys howled in amusement and Xavier dove into his attempt to defend himself, soon getting wrapped up in conversation as his friends teased him. Meanwhile, Avalon was able to turn to Avery and speak to him without fear of the preoccupied boys eavesdropping. 

“Please tell me you’ll be at the ball, too,” she sighed. “I can’t deal with this,” she said, motioning towards the boys, “alone all night.”

Orion chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. “You’ll have a great time, I promise.”

She narrowed her eyes on him. “Why does that sound like you’re not going?”

He sighed. “I mean… it’s not like I can ask Clara,” he said in a hushed voice, making sure the others wouldn’t hear him. “So, what’s the point?”

“Is Clara not going either?”

“She is,” he said. “Her friend asked her. They’ve been close since they were little and I trust her entirely… but I still don’t think I really want to see her with someone else all night.”

She pouted and nudged his shoulder. “It’s your last year, you can’t not go. I promise you’ll have fun. You can stay with Xavier and me and we can figure out a way to make sure you see Clara, too. Please come,” she pleaded.

“Ava, I can’t,” he said, but he had a smile on his lips. “You and Xavier will have a good night, though. And you’re more than welcome to come hang out with me afterward if you get sick of Lestrange.” 

“I’m sure I will.”

“I heard my name,” Xavier said, slinging an arm around Avalon’s shoulder as he entered their conversation. He paid Avery no mind, however, as he stared fondly at Avalon, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek before he slowly dragged away, his lips hovering by her ear when he whispered, “I’m so bloody lucky to have you as mine.” She smiled and leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. His hand cupped her cheek and he pulled her closer, deepening the kiss before he mumbled into her lips, “Spend the rest of the evening with me.”

“Can the two of you get a bloody room?” Rosier scoffed.

Xavier pulled away and said to his roommate, “Careful what you wish for, mate. Your bed is right next to mine.”

Tom’s agitation grew as he listened to Lestrange speak-- his lovesick dramatics were excruciating to watch. Even Nott and Greengrass were more tolerable to be around, Tom thought to himself. At least those two didn’t shove their tongues down each other’s throats every chance they got. 

He hated watching Hendrix fawn over the wealthy idiot. Her words from the Room of Requirement kept circling in his mind.

_ ‘Connections are everything.’ _

Well, they sure seemed connected, he thought bitterly. 

He didn’t understand. If she were only with him for connections, then why was she so willing to go along with every damn thing that Lestrange did? A part of him had thought that she would have been above Xavier’s childish tactics, but looking at her now, as her fingers tangled into her boyfriend’s hair, he couldn’t help but wonder if she really did have feelings for the boy. 

Either that, or she was a better actress than he gave her credit for. She did, in fact, have everyone-- Lestrange, especially-- fooled. 

He wasn’t sure which he preferred: her lying or her actually falling for the moron.

All he knew was that he had definitely lost his damn appetite. 

Hendrix had apparently decided to take a much-needed oxygen break from kissing her boyfriend and pulled away from the lovesick heir. From over Lestrange’s shoulder, she caught Tom’s eye for a moment and a mischievous glint flashed into her stare before she returned her attention to Xavier as she swiped her thumb across her bottom lip and grinned. 

Tom felt himself balling his fists and had to look away, growing inexplicably agitated. He couldn’t watch them anymore. It was making him nauseous and angry and annoyed all at the same time. 

He hadn’t noticed how his jaw had clenched as he stared directly ahead of him, looking anywhere but at Hendrix. Instead, he roughly put his hand on Patil’s knee underneath the table. She glanced at him, and although he avoided her eyes, a knowing glint appeared on her features as a subtle smile found its way onto her lips. 

\-----

Tom grabbed his shirt off the floor and slipped it on over his shoulders, his slender fingers calmly working to button it up as he waited for Patil to get dressed. She put her arms through her silk robe and tied it back up, though her movements were slower than usual. He shot her a confused glance, wondering why she was still lingering in his bed. 

“I broke up with Renley today,” she finally said.

His fingers paused their movements, his shirt halfway buttoned, but his gaze remained unchanged. “And why did you do that?”

She narrowed her silver-grey eyes on him, refusing to answer his question and instead said, “You know why.”

“Enlighten me.”

Her brows furrowed into a frown, but she tried to keep her cool. “We’ve been running around in secret for almost a year now. Why are we still hiding this?”

He slowly walked towards her, his eyes cold and sinister. “What exactly is  _ ‘this?’ _ ”

She bit the inside of her cheek, her stare faltering for a moment before she regained her composure. “Are you really going to make me say it?”

He leaned down until his face was inches from hers and gently put a finger under her chin, lifting her gaze to meet his. “Make you say what? That you dumped your long-time boyfriend for someone who isn’t interested?” He dropped his fingers and stood back up, his frame casting a dark shadow over her. “Did you expect me to be grateful? Happy?”

When she spoke, her voice came out much frailer than she had hoped it would be. “Tom, stop…”

“It is not my problem that you ignored my clear intentions and decided to ruin your own relationship. If I were you, I’d go beg for Travers to take you back.”

“I just thought-”

“You thought wrong,” he snarled. 

Her eyes begin to well with tears, though she had the strength to not let them fall. Thank Merlin. He didn’t particularly feel like having to watch her cry in front of him. “What about us?”

“There is no ‘us.’ There never has been an us and there never will be an us,” he spat. “Now get out.”

She stared at him with a mixture of heartbreak and anger before hastily standing up and making her way to the door. Before she left, she stared at him, her eyes red with incoming tears, and hissed, “Fuck you, Riddle,” and then stormed out of his room, leaving him alone to roll his eyes and run an exasperated hand through his disheveled hair. 

He had to recollect his thoughts for a moment, calming his nerves before returning to his task of buttoning up his shirt. His room had begun to feel suffocating, the air still thick with the tension that Patil had decided to introduce. 

In that moment, the only thing he really wanted was to get out of that damn room. So, he grabbed a book off of his desk and walked over to his door, opening it up and heading into the hallway. Right as he left his room, Lestrange’s door swung wide open and Hendrix scurried out, at first not noticing him as she left the dorm with a smile on her swollen lips.

_ Great _ , he sarcastically thought to himself,  _ as if what he needed was another interaction with Hendrix _ . 

She heard his footsteps behind her and spun around, startled. Though the moment her gaze landed on him, a scowl found its way onto her features. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Mind you, I live here,” he replied, as the two of them made their way down the hall. His eyes glanced at the purple marks freshly littered across her neck and collarbone. “I see you and Lestrange were… celebrating.” She cocked an eyebrow up, evidently unaware of the blossoming lovebites strewn along her skin. His eyes remained locked on her neck, and a look of pure panic and realization flashed across her face as she quickly put a hand on her skin, desperate to cover up the marks Xavier had left. She bit her lip, a blush creeping onto her cheeks as she avoided his eyes. “I must admit, you’ve grown much better at pretending to like him.”

She rolled her eyes, finally taking in his own unruly hair and swollen lips. “And am I supposed to believe you spent the last hour praying?”

He chuckled. “Well, somebody was calling out to God… it just wasn’t me.”

She stared at him for a moment before bursting into laughter. “So I see you do have a sense of humor hidden behind all that pomp and circumstance.”

Neither one of them had realized that they had already reached the common room exit. He hadn’t noticed he had been following her to the door, but when he came to his senses, he put his hand on the handle to open it for her. Though, he paused for a moment and they stood there quietly, locking eyes yet neither one saying anything as they let time stand still around them. He sensed the agitation he had felt earlier with Kyra slowly faded to nothingness as he stood before Hendrix, and found it easier to focus once more. His mind felt cleared and confused all at the same time.

Their relationship was so up and down that it nearly gave him whiplash. One moment she was threatening him, and the next she was laughing at his jokes. He never truly knew where he stood with Hendrix, and it drove him mad that he couldn’t read her.

But, it was also what kept drawing him towards her.

She was an enigma. And he was beginning to grow increasingly aware of the fact that no matter how hard he tried, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to stop chasing after her until he understood who she was.

He needed to know everything about Avalon Hendrix. 


	25. Chapter 25

Tom watched as Hendrix slipped out the common room. When she exited, the peace left with her, leaving behind a harrowing sense of urgency as he turned back around and stormed to Lestrange’s room. He slammed open the door to reveal Xavier sitting on the edge of his bed, his head buried in his hands and his shirt still fully unbuttoned. When Tom burst in, Lestrange jumped a bit before his eyes landed on his friend and they eased up once more. “Bloody hell, you nearly gave me a heart attack.”

The entire room reeked of alcohol. How Hendrix managed to spend so much time there was beyond Tom. It wasn’t messy-- which was surely Rosier’s doing-- but there were bottles and bottles of expensive liquor strewn everywhere. The bookshelves were devoid of a single book, in their place stood only wine glasses and an assortment of flasks. Tom made sure to shut the door behind him before he narrowed his eyes on Xavier. “Well?”

Xavier reached into his back pocket and whipped out his flask, raising it to his lips begrudgingly as he stared at Tom and raised an eyebrow. “Well, what?” 

Years of being in Lestrange’s presence had not made it any easier to control his temper around the blithering fool. Tom took in a deep breath before he snarled, “You’ve been pursuing Hendrix for two months now and what do you have to show for it? You’ve given me no information. Everything I know about her, I had to learn myself.”

“I’m working on it,” Xavier grumbled. 

“Are you? Or are you just working on getting her into your bed?” Tom asked, snatching the flask out of Lestrange’s fingers and tossing it to the floor, earning an agitated huff of annoyance in return.

Xavier’s lips tightened as he clenched his jaw, growing increasingly angry yet knowing better than to dare speak up against Tom. “It’s not as simple as you think. She’s a closed book.”

“Because she isn’t a simple girl. We knew that from the start. And if you’re not capable of getting her to open up to you, then I see no reason for you to keep pursuing her when others could be more successful,” he said, his voice threatening.

“Others?” Xavier scoffed. “Surely, you can’t mean yourself?” When he noticed Tom’s unwavering expression, he shook his head in disbelief. “She  _ hates _ you.”

Something flashed across Tom’s face, but Xavier couldn’t quite pin the emotion. “And yet she’s given me more information while she despises me than she has given you after you’ve pined after her like a fool for two months.”

“I’m not a fool,” Xavier said, his voice struggling to stay level. Tom could see him getting defensive, and that only made Tom grow angrier, himself. “I just can’t rush things.”

“Where was that excuse when you bed half the school after taking them on one date?” Tom asked, and Xavier’s eyes darkened. A sudden realization struck him and Tom bellowed out in a cold laughter. “Don’t tell me you’ve grown fond of her.”

“I haven’t,” Xavier protested half-heartedly. 

“No?” Tom asked, a devilish smile creeping onto his lips. “The dress, the diamonds, the flowers… those are all part of your plan then?”

“I just-”

“You’re allowing yourself to be blinded by your emotions. I thought even you would be beyond that,” he scoffed.

“I am not being blinded by anything,” Xavier argued. “I know what I’m doing.”

“What you’re  _ doing _ is growing weaker and weaker with each passing day. How many times must I remind you? Love… is… weakness,” he hissed. “So get your head on straight and do your bloody job.”

Xavier said through gritted teeth, “I told you, I’m working on it.”

“Well, it isn’t working, is it? So, perhaps it is time I step in.”

“Don’t-” 

“Why?”

“I’ll get it done. I just need-”

“Give me one reason I should continue to allow you to pursue her when you have failed at the one thing I-”

“Because she’s  _ mine! _ ” Xavier shouted, the anger in his face suddenly disappearing as a flash of panic glistened in his eyes. He had not meant to yell at Riddle, though masking his emotions was not one of his strengths.

As Tom stared coldly at him, Xavier shrunk in his bed, avoiding the demonic gaze of the towering Prefect standing before him. He sat there in a tense anticipation, waiting to see how Riddle would react to his outburst, but Tom only watched him, shaking his head as a light-- yet hollow-- laugh escaped his lips. “Your first mistake was being foolish enough to think you could own someone like Hendrix.”

“I-” 

“She cannot be bought with dresses, jewels, or flowers. I know you’re used to paying for whatever you want, Lestrange, but that isn’t going to work for you this time. The only way to truly get Hendrix to open up to you is by understanding her mind… her values. You need to be intelligent enough to decipher her,” he said, his voice a low growl. “And, unfortunately, intelligence is one thing your money can’t buy.”

Xavier opened his mouth to speak, but decided to opt for silence, merely watching as Tom made his way over to the exit. He put his hand on the doorknob, but before he left, he said, “I will allow you one more opportunity to prove to me that you are worthy of my orders.” He paused for a moment and looked over his shoulder, his dark eyes meeting Xavier’s when he said in a chillingly calm voice, “And if you ever dare raise your voice against me again, the only thing you’ll be getting out of Hendrix will be a eulogy.” 

Without another word, he opened the door and walked out of the room, leaving behind the speechless heir with nothing more than a paralyzing fear and an urgency to prove himself. 

  
  


\-------

Avalon and Zelda stuffed their belongings into their bags as Transfiguration came to an end the next day. The room was filled with the chattering of their peers discussing the Yule Ball, assignments, and Quidditch. Avalon’s eyes met her professor’s and he offered her a subtle smile, which she half-heartedly returned. 

She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t still irked at Dumbledore and his incessant need to run metaphors out of his mouth every time she spoke to him. Sometimes she wondered how Harry had put up with him all those years. 

As she began to walk towards the exit, she felt someone grab her wrist from behind and raise her arm over her head, spinning her around playfully until she landed into his hold and the familiar scent of wine and cologne tickled her nose. 

“Hello, darling,” Xavier cooed as his lips left a lingering kiss on her cheek. He turned his attention to Zelda, a grin on his face as he winked. “Hey, Shacks.”

“Hey, Strange,” Zelda replied with a roll of her eyes. 

“Mind if I steal your roommate?” he asked.

“I don’t think you’d listen to me either way,” she replied.

“Right you are,” he chuckled, tugging Avalon away despite her light protest. His fingers intertwined with hers and he dragged her out the door before she could utter a final goodbye to her laughing friend. 

“Xavier,” Avalon whined, though he merely ignored her pleas. “Xavier, where are we going?”

“I planned us a date,” he replied proudly as he wove them through the crowd amassing outside. 

“I was planning on going to the library with Zelda,” she complained. 

“I’ll only take a few hours of your time,” he grinned, lifting their laced fingers to his lips and pressing a kiss against the back of her hand. 

“Will you at least tell me what we’re doing?” 

“And ruin the surprise?” 

She couldn’t hold back the laugh that slipped from her lips. Xavier was many things-- plenty of them aggravating-- but to deny his charm was near impossible. That much she would admit. 

He led them all the way to the edge of the Great Lake before he finally stopped. The air was crisp and she looked around at the red, orange, and yellow leaves, wondering to herself how autumn had crept up on her so quickly. The warmth of his hand slipped away from her grasp as he walked away from her and towards a large boulder, pulling a picnic basket out from behind the rock before he walked back to her with a lazy smile on his lips. 

Bending down to open the basket, he reached in and whipped out a black blanket, opening it up and draping it onto the ground. Avalon watched him curiously as he began pulling out an assortment of chocolate-covered strawberries, scones, and sweets and laid them atop the setup before he extended his hand and motioned for her to sit by him. Her eyes glanced at the pile of scones, searching for lemon-blueberry, but all she saw was raspberry. 

He pried out a bottle of champagne and two sparkling glasses, popping the cork and pouring each of them a drink. She let him take a hold of her hand and smiled as she laid down beside him, propping herself up on her elbows with her glass at her side. When his gaze met hers, there was something different about how his eyes were focused on her. She couldn’t quite understand what it was, but it made her uneasy. “Is everything alright?”

“Of course, darling,” he smiled, the dark glint in his eyes disappearing as soon as he spoke. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I just-”

“I’m here, in a beautiful place,” he said as he picked up a chocolate strawberry and held it before her mouth, “with the most beautiful girl,” he watched as she took a bite, his eyes glued to her lips before he leaned in for a kiss, smiling to himself when the lingering taste of the berry hit his tongue, “watching a beautiful sunset. Everything is more than alright, love.” She let out a sigh and he put a hand on her cheek, stroking her skin softly. “How could I be anything else when I am with you?”

And, he was back to his normal self. His normal, charismatic, adoring, self. So, she leaned into his touch and smiled, feeling rather at ease as the sun draped them both in its dying golden rays. 

He looked almost angelic. The way the sun illuminated the high points of his contoured face, he was cast in a heavenly aura, his hair framing his features in perfect brown waves. His green eyes glimmered in the wake of the sunset and he watched her with the same romantic longing that she had grown used to since getting to know him. 

As she caught herself locked in his gaze, she couldn’t shake the creeping feeling of guilt in her stomach. There was no scenario in which she and Xavier could end up together, and she knew that. Either she was going to kill Riddle and return to her own time, or she would die trying. In no possible future would she stay here and be with the boy before her, and deep down, she knew that leading him down this path was only taking him towards his own heartbreak. 

Though, she hoped it was not all for nothing. 

She wanted Xavier to live a better life. She wanted him to do better, to be better. 

He was not a lost cause-- at least, she didn’t think so. Xavier was unlike Tom. He had grown up in privilege, with a family who fed him with evil ideas, evil thoughts, and evil beliefs. He was a product of upbringing, and she wondered if he, like Avery, could one day see the light. Perhaps, if she spent enough time with him, he could be saved from a future of darkness. 

Riddle, however, had nobody to blame but his own corrupt mind. He had an empty soul. There was nothing to save, nothing to fix, nothing to change. 

That’s what she thought. 

That’s what she had to believe. 

She couldn’t think about the moments when she saw glimpses of humanity within him. She couldn’t… or else she would stay awake all night staring out her window at the expansive darkness outside and try to tell herself that she was doing nothing wrong by being here. She was only doing what had to be done.

She was here because she was the only one who could do it… the only one who  _ would _ do it. 

There was a faint sound that her ears barely registered, and as she slowly came back to her senses, she noticed Xavier’s lips had been moving the entire time. “Sorry, what?” she asked, cutting him off. 

He rolled his eyes, laughing. “I said… there’s a party this Friday in the Slytherin dormitory. I want to see you there.”

“Another party?” she asked. “I really shouldn’t. I’m drowning in work and I had promised Zelda that we would go to the library together all weekend.”

“You have to go.”.

“I can’t-”

His fingers gently lifted her chin up so she’d be level with him as he leaned down and laid a soft kiss on her lips before muttering into her skin, “Not even if it’s for my birthday?”

She pulled away, her jaw dropping as she pouted at him. “Your birthday? Why didn’t you tell me sooner!”

“I’m telling you now!” he chuckled, throwing his hands up in defense.

“I won’t even have time to get you a present, you moron,” she groaned, gently slapping his arm. 

“Why would I need a gift when I have you?” he asked, kissing her pouting lips until a smile found its way onto her face. “I’m already the luckiest one at Hogwarts.”

They melted into one another’s touch, eating, drinking, and stealing quick kisses as the seconds turned to minutes turned to an hour. The sun hid behind the horizon, in its place leaving the moon floating up high and casting them in the subtle glow of the night sky. 

Her head rested atop his stomach as she stared up at the stars, her thoughts pleasantly fuzzy after the two of them had drained the champagne. His fingers had found a home in her hair, softly twirling her dark locks around his touch, softly grazing her skin with the pads of his thumb as he watched her quietly. 

The feeling of his gaze made her shift, tilting her head to meet his eyes, which softened as soon as they met hers. “Merlin, you’re stunning.” He let out a deep breath and smiled, his fingers tracing the outline of her lips before returning to her hair. “I want to know everything about you.”

“What do you want to know?” she asked.

“Everything,” he admitted. “I want to know about your life at Durmstrang… your friends… your family… your hobbies… your favorite memories,” he said, his voice airy. “I want to know more about the girl who has captured my heart.”

“Well, I’ve already told you I grew up living with my aunt,” she started, choosing her words carefully. She thought about her hobbies, but her mind came up blank. It had been quite some time since she had afforded the luxury of spending her time doing something she enjoyed, rather than either hiding from or battling in a war. “I’m quite good at chess,” she finally said, thinking fondly of the many times she had beat Ron in the game, leaving him crestfallen and moping for the rest of the day. 

“Why am I not surprised that you enjoy the one game that feels like an exam?” he chuckled. 

“It’s fun!” she insisted. “I used to play with my friends all the time… but, they started to refuse to join me because I kept winning,” she laughed.

“Your friends… tell me about them.”

She paused for a moment, thinking of each of them in turn. The mere thought of them filled her heart with a bittersweet nostalgia that made her heart swell and sink at the same time. They were her saving grace. They were why she was here. 

“My friends,” she started, but her words trailed off. 

“What are they like?”

“It’s hard to say… they’re all so different,” she said wistfully. “Some were quiet, others louder than the crowd at a Quidditch match. Some of them studied day and night, others would forget about exams and show up late… all of them were strong. Brave. Good,” she said, lingering on the last word. “Better people than I could ever be.”

“Have you kept in contact with them?”

A bitter laugh escaped her lips. “It’s quite difficult to.”

“I’m sure you could send an owl,” he said. “If you’d like, my owl travels quite quickly. The old bloke is faster than the best broom on the market.”

“Perhaps one day,” she said, smiling. 

“Who are your best friends?” 

She smiled, but her eyes were ridden with a soft despair. “Two twins named Fred and George. I spent most of my time with them. They’re my friend Ron’s older brothers, but I grew quite close to them over the years. We did nearly everything together,” she laughed. “We would pull all sorts of pranks on our friends… and then there were Hermione and Luna. Two of the brightest witches I have ever known and hearts of gold to match,” she said, finding it hard to stop speaking. She hadn’t realized how much she had missed talking about her friends until now. It felt good to let it all out. “Hermione is like a walking encyclopedia. Luna is practically a Seer, I swear. I can’t tell you how many times she has read my mind and told me exactly what I needed to hear.”

“And Harry?”

Her heart sank. 

“What?” she asked, her body tensing. 

“Harry? You said his name in class that one time you dueled Riddle. Is he your friend, too?”

She sat up, her brows furrowing at the similarity between her conversation now and the one she had with Riddle earlier. “Why would you ask me that? Did the way I cried out his name imply that it was something I wanted to talk about?”

“I-”

“Did Riddle put you up to this?” she asked. 

His eyes went wide at the accusation, and he propped himself up, too. “I’m sorry if I struck a nerve,” he began, his words slow. “I was only trying to-”

“Did Riddle put you up to this?” she repeated, cutting him off.

“What? No,” he said, shaking his head. “No, of course not. Why would he?”

She stared at him, her eyes scanning his face for any signs of lying, but he was hard to read. He reached out and took her hand in his, lifting it to his lips and pressing a delicate kiss on her skin. “I’m sorry, love. I shouldn’t have asked,” he said, his voice soft as his gentle eyes met hers. “I can’t help it. I only want to know everything there is to know about you.” He could see her brows begin to return to their natural state and her body ease up, so he cupped her cheek and smiled. “Can you blame me? I’m head over heels for you.”

He leaned in and his lips met hers, and her worries melted at his touch. Though, when he pulled away, she took in a deep breath before saying, “Perhaps we should head back to the castle. It is getting late.”

“Must we?” he asked, staring into her eyes as his lips left a trail of kisses along the side of her jaw, lingering on her neck as he gently swept the collar of her shirt to the side and revealed the purple love bites he had left the night prior, his eyes darkening at the sight. “What if we just stay here?”

“I told you I have to study tonight,” she said, putting a finger under his chin and prying him away from her with a light laugh. “But thank you… for the picnic.” 

“Anything for you,” he said, though she could sense a hint of annoyance in his words when she stood up and brushed herself off. 

As the two of them worked on packing up the remnants of the picnic back into the basket and began making their way back to the castle, one was staring at the stars above, pushing the last bit of unease out of her mind, while the other was filled with a looming sense of dread as he thought of what relentless anger he would face when he would eventually have to report his lack of findings to his impatient friend. 


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: ATTEMPTED SEXUAL ASSAULT

_ The elves had done a great job _ , Avalon thought to herself as she walked towards the Slytherin dormitories. In her hands was a tray topped with a large, round cake, frosted with a generous helping of dark chocolate and topped with a handful of emerald-green candles. When she had gone to the kitchens and asked Tossy and Bonsey if they could make a cake for Xavier’s birthday, she hadn’t expected that they’d even have time to accommodate her last-minute request. But, the two elves had dropped everything to make sure they were able to bake the perfect birthday cake, continuously telling Avalon that they were happy to help her because she was their friend. They had even given her a small, nicely wrapped parcel filled with plates, napkins, and utensils… truly, they had gone above and beyond.

She’d grown rather fond of the two of them. They reminded her of Dobby, and his memory filled her heart with a bittersweet joy and nostalgia. 

So, as she walked towards her destination, a faint smile lingered on her lips. All-in-all, she was in a rather good mood that night. After working in the library with Zelda all day, she had completed most of her work, had spare time to get dressed up, and was ready to have a normal night. A normal, pleasant, happy night. 

When she arrived at the entrance of the dormitory, she stated the password and made her way in, meeting the gaze of several younger Slytherins who were perched on the couches. None of them said anything as she made her way past them and towards Xavier’s room, knowing better than to dare protest the presence of Lestrange’s girlfriend. 

She could hear a commotion from down the hall, the sound of laughter and cheering ringing through her ears the closer she got. With the cake balanced on one hand, she reached for the doorknob and turned it until the entrance swung open. 

Inside, she was met with the image of Xavier and Adonis perched on Xavier’s bed, while Rosalie sat atop Axel’s lap with Demitri beside them on Adonis’ bed. Orion was nearby, laughing the lingering joke from his place at the foot of the bedside trunk, and Tom was a little further away, leaning against the chair at Xavier’s desk as he listened in on the conversation. The entire room smelled strongly of firewhiskey, a slew of half-drunk bottles scattered all throughout the room. There was a carefree and lighthearted feeling radiating throughout the room, laughter and smiles abundant as they unwound at the end of the week to the tune of a birthday celebration. 

The sounds of their joy echoed so loudly through the room, that her presence went unnoticed for a moment until Orion’s eyes landed on her and brightened at the sight. “Ava!” he exclaimed happily, scrambling to his feet as he made his way over and helped free her hands as he took the plates and utensils from her grasp and set them down on an empty desk. 

Avalon was met with a chorus of elated greetings as she made her way over to where Xavier was sitting and placed the cake on the bedside table by him. He put a hand over his heart and smiled, though his eyes were hazy from the apparent alcohol already coursing through his system. “Darling, you didn’t have to-”

“Happy birthday, Xavier,” she smiled as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into his lap, stealing a kiss the first moment he could. His lips tasted of firewhiskey, though that wasn’t too far out of the norm for him. She pulled away and laughed. “I would have said that to you earlier, but you decided not to show up to classes.”

“Attending classes on one’s birthday should be criminal,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I gave myself the day off.”

“I’m sure Dippet will understand when he gives you another day of detention,” she said. 

“He’s going to start running out of days,” Xavier shrugged before grabbing his flask off the bed and taking a sip, offering it up to Avalon afterward. She took the small metal container from him and raised it to her lips, feeling the familiar warmth of the alcohol as it burned its way down her throat. 

“I have to admit, you’re a lot more sober than I anticipated you’d be at your own birthday party,” she said. 

Xavier looked around the room before letting out a hearty laugh. “Love, the party hasn’t even begun yet.”

She shook her head. Perhaps it had been foolish to think Xavier Lestrange wouldn’t throw himself an extravagant event for his birthday. “Well,” she said, snapping her fingers and lighting the candles on the cake. “Now that we are all here… make a wish.”

“Whatever could I wish for? Everything I could need is sitting right here,” he said.

Everyone, including Avalon, let out a collective groan. 

“Booooo!” yelled Demitri. 

“Oi, fuck off,” Xavier protested, a joking scowl on his lips. 

“My hair’s turning silver, mate,” Adonis chimed in. “On with it!”

“Fine, fine,” Xavier said, pausing a moment to think before a flash of realization came across his features and he leaned over towards the cake, blowing out the candles and grinning to himself. 

“What did you wish for?” Avalon asked. 

“Well if I told you, then it wouldn’t come true, would it?” he replied, kissing her cheek. 

“What happened to having everything you needed?” 

“I thought of something,” he said with a wink.

“Can someone cut the bloody cake before those two make me lose my appetite?” Orion joked as he playfully frowned towards Avalon, who rolled her eyes and laughed in return. Avalon flicked her wrist towards the cake and from within the parcel that the elves had bundled up for her, a knife levitated upwards and began slicing a perfectly cut piece before it floated slowly onto a plate and then shot towards Avery’s face. 

He let out a gasp and grabbed the plate just a moment before it hit him, but the cake still flew forward, smacking him on the side of his cheek. Avalon burst into laughter, as did everyone else in the room, as she watched his fingers reach up and scraped the remnants of chocolate frosting back onto his plate with a disgusted look on his face. For a moment, Avalon’s eyes met Riddle’s, and she watched as he shook his head, a ghost of a smile lingering on his lips as he watched the scene before him. Avery paused a moment before his eyes narrowed on Avalon and he laughed, “Oh, you’re so dead!”

He sprung onto his feet, pouncing towards her and she let out a yelp before jumping off of Xavier’s lap and fleeing towards safety, Avery chasing after her with a glob of frosting on his finger. 

An hour later, the cake was gone-- largely due to the Quidditch boys inhaling it in one sitting-- and the bottles were nearly drained. The room was buzzing with a lively energy as they laughed, talked, and joked the time away. Xavier and Demitri had each taken a knee, locking their arms through the other’s as they chugged the last remaining bottles of firewhiskey. 

Orion and Axel had invented a game of trying to toss tiny balls of torn-up, clumped napkins into empty bottles around the room. They would eye their targets carefully, focusing all of their concentration into perfecting their aim before they would shoot the tiny bits of trash and watch in anticipation as they would just barely miss their mark.

“How the bloody hell have we not made a single shot?” Axel groaned, frustratedly throwing his hands up in the air before he begrudgingly took a swig from his drink. 

Nearby, Avalon and Rosalie sat side by side, trying desperately to cover-up their laughter as Avalon would swipe her finger through the air anytime the boys would aim, causing the scraps to swerve slightly and fall just short of their target, once again earning a chorus of dejected groans from the two roommates. Tom and Adonis quietly sipped their drinks from the back of the room while they watched the girls from afar, both of them laughing to themselves each time they watched Avalon skew the Quidditch player’s shots. 

From outside in the common room, the sounds of cheering and music echoed past the walls. “Lestrange,” Adonis called out, earning a lazy grin from his roommate. “The rest of Slytherin is waiting for you outside. Let’s go.”

Xavier stumbled to his feet, his movements already on the road to becoming sloppy as he waved his bottle in the air and shrugged. “Well, who am I to deny the people what they want?” He made his way to the door, bursting it open and yelling down the hall, “Dry your tears, I’m on my way!”

He made a bee-line for the common room, leaving his friends and girlfriend behind as he stormed into the party, met with a chorus of hoots and hollers as the rest of his house celebrated his arrival. 

The rest of the group began to stand up and make their way towards the party. Avalon and Rosalie walked towards the commotion together as their boyfriends both were handed drinks the moment they arrived into the scene, downing their glasses surrounded by crowds of cheering friends.

“I’ll admit, it truly is nice to have another girlfriend in the mix,” Rosalie said, a soft smile on her lips. “I was going absolutely mad being surrounded by these boys so often.”

“What about Kyra?” Avalon asked, glancing around the room. “Is she here tonight?”

“She wasn’t feeling too well so she’s in our room for the night,” Rosalie said, her words unsure.

“That’s too bad,” Avalon said. “I hope she feels better soon.”

“Yeah…” Rosalie muttered, her words trailing off as her gaze flickered towards Riddle for a moment.

Tom had been swallowed up by a group of Slytherins, all of them circling around him adoringly as he flashed them his perfectly crafted smile and took a long sip from his cup. Avalon could hear his laughter through the sounds of the party. It was a beautiful sound-- though the charm he presented fell short of reaching his dark eyes. 

There was an undeniable confidence that surrounded him. He presented himself with the air of someone who knew they had the power to sway anyone in their midst. The way he held himself, he was aware of the way girls fawned over him, the way boys longed to be like him. Avalon met his gaze from across the room, and she saw his lips twist upwards into a smirk before he returned his attention to the girls before him, chatting with them as he slowly leaned back against the wall behind him. 

Avalon felt a pair of hands reach around her waist from behind before she was twirled around, coming face to face with Xavier as he placed a kiss where her neck met her collarbone and grinned into her skin. “Darling,” he cooed, his eyes filled with lust as he looked her up and down.

Axel stumbled over towards them, lacing his fingers with Rosalie’s as he whined, “Come on, Rosie, let’s go!” 

Rosalie looked over at Avalon and smiled. “I’ll catch up with you later, love,” she said before her boyfriend dragged her off into the center of the room, disappearing into a sea of dancing bodies.

“You’re falling behind,” Xavier said to Avalon. “Have another drink with me.”

“Is that a challenge?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips.

“Considering this may be the only avenue in which I excel beyond you,” he said, holding a cup towards her, “it  _ is _ a challenge.”

She shook her head and snatched the cup from his hands, lifting it to her lips and draining it in a single swig.

One drink.

Xavier dragged her into the crowd, the two of them laughed at her pathetic attempt to swing dance. 

Two drinks.

Demitri hopped onto a table and chugged from a bottle as the rest of Slytherin cheered him on from below.

Three drinks.

Axel and Rosalie disappeared up the stairs towards the dorms, hand in hand. 

Four drinks.

Orion pulled her onto the couch and spun her around, dancing with her until Xavier yanked her back to the ground.

Five drinks. 

She nearly fell onto an armchair occupied by Adonis and the girl he had locked his lips with as he tangled his fingers in the faceless girl’s hair. 

Six drinks.

With a finger pressed into his chest, Avalon shouted at an amused Tom above the music, her words slurred and Xavier’s arms wrapped around her waist as he tried to pry her away. “I’ll b-beat your ass at chess the same w-way I beat your ass in a d-duel… Twice!” 

Seven drinks.

Everything was blurry. Blurry. Everything was…

Eight.

Lips on her neck.

Nine?

Don’t know.

Another. 

Blurry.

Another.

Concern. Dark coffee eyes. Concerned.

Another. 

Black.

Another.

_ Green _ .

His eyes. Green.

She felt her back pressed against a cold stone wall as Xavier’s fingers fumbled to shut the door behind him. The music from outside became muted. 

His eyes were so hazy that she could barely tell if they were even open. Hers were no better. 

Lips. She felt his lips on her neck. On her ear. On her mouth. Collar. Jaw. Everywhere. 

He was everywhere. 

“Xavier,” she muttered, her voice quiet.

“Avalon,” he whispered, his mouth finding hers as he slurred out the word. 

Fingers. She felt his fingers fumbling with the buttons on her shirt. 

She tried to shove against him, but his hands caught her wrist and he pinned her arms above her head. Lips. Neck. No.

“Xavier,” she repeated, a little louder. 

“Sh, darling,” he said, covering her lips with his.

She shook her head, her eyes threatening to close as she tried to frown at him. “St-Stop it.”

Nothing. 

Lips. Hands. No. 

Fingers. Shirt. Stop.

“Stop it!” she said, mustering up all her strength to shout the words out. 

“Shut up.” 

Her blood ran cold. 

A sense of adrenaline kicked in and she felt an ounce of her sobriety come back to her as she stared into his eyes. 

Green.

_ It was always green.  _

She pried one of her hands free and tried to reach for her wand, but he quickly snatched it out of her pocket and threw it aside, his eyes cold when he pushed her wrists back against the wall, this time harder. 

A yelp of pain left her lips as she felt his fingers dig so deeply into her wrists that she knew they would bruise. But, she didn’t care about that right now. 

She tried to channel her energy into a wandless spell, but the alcohol had rendered her abilities useless. Her focus was fragmented. Nothing happened.

Magic wasn’t going to save her. 

She could see him leaning forward once more, and she did the first thing that she could think of. 

She pulled her head back and shot forward with all of her strength, the top of her forehead crashing against his nose. There was a sickening crunch and he stumbled back, his hand darting to cover his face as crimson liquid began to pool down his face. 

When his stare met hers, a chill ran down her spine. “You fucking bitch,” he spat out, his teeth stained red with his own blood. She tried to run towards her wand, but before she could, he grabbed her from behind and threw her atop his bed, climbing over her. Despite her violent thrashing, he was too strong for her to physically overpower and he pinned her arms to the side without much trouble. His bloodstained handprints painted along her skin as he loomed over her with a dark look in his drunken eyes. 

The door crashed open.

She felt the weight of Xavier’s body being ripped off of her as he was thrown onto the ground with a loud thud. 

Fury. Dark coffee eyes. Furious.

She stumbled up, her footsteps sloppy as she desperately scrambled to get as far away from that bed as possible. Her own feet tripped her as she tried to stand, and two strong arms caught her before she could fall.

Tom’s eyes met hers as he steadied her. “Can you walk?” he asked urgently. She nodded. “Go to my room.” She couldn’t process his words. “Go! I’ll be there shortly,” he said, motioning for her to leave. 

The sound of Lestrange’s laughter broke her out of her thoughts and she looked down at the bloodied boy, feeling a pit of nausea rise in her stomach before she darted to the door, running out and towards Tom’s bedroom. 

She could hear Lestrange’s laughter bellowing out all the way down the hall, echoing through her mind as she put her hand on Tom’s doorknob. And, as she opened the door and went in, she could swear she heard a scream get cut off. 

Silence.

Bloody fucking silence.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: GRAPHIC DEPICTION OF TORTURE

He wanted him dead.

He wanted to kill him.

Tom wanted to rip Lestrange’s heart out with his own bare hands. 

The heir laid on the ground, his empty laughter bellowing through the air as blood dripped down from his broken nose. His fucking laughter… His goddamn fucking laughter…

“ _ Crucio _ ,” Tom hissed.

Screams filled the room.

In his anger, he had forgotten to put a silencing charm on the dorm. 

_ Fuck _ .

Reluctantly, he broke the Cruciatus Curse almost as quickly as he cast it and took a second to make sure that nobody would be able to hear the sounds coming from the room. 

Silence.

Bloody fucking silence.

Lestrange forced out a choked breath, writhing on the floor as the effects of the short-lived curse reverberated through his body. The sound of his gasps angered Tom. The pathetic sight of him on the floor angered Tom. The image of him hovered over Hendrix…

That made Tom furious.

“What the bloody hell was that for?!” Lestrange shouted, his eyes glaring daggers at Tom. His words were slurred and his eyes were still hazy from the copious amount of alcohol still lingering in his system. 

Tom bent down so he was eye-level with the boy.

Brown versus green.

Fury versus indignation. 

“Be grateful it wasn’t the Killing Curse,” Tom snarled. 

Lestrange rolled his eyes, shaking his head and spitting out a mouthful of red onto the floor. “Was finally getting somewhere with her and you had to come and ruin all my bloody fun. And on my birthday, no less.”

Breathe.

Breathe.

Just fucking breathe.

Tom’s hands had balled into tight fists around his wand. His jaw was clenched so hard that the veins on his neck were becoming more and more prominent. He felt like an intruder in his own body-- as if it belonged to an animal. A bloodthirsty animal. 

“Why do you even care?” Lestrange asked, propping himself up with his arms as he slightly lifted himself from the ground. “I’ll still get you your damn information. No harm done-- I was going to obliviate her anyway.”

It was like someone flipped a switch.

Instantly… Tom lost control.

His vision flashed red. So did his eyes.

He grabbed an empty bottle of firewhiskey and smashed it against the post of Xavier’s bed. It broke just below the neck and before Lestrange could even process what was happening, Tom plunged the piercing shards into the boy’s chest, right next to his heart.

Lestrange fell back onto the floor with a thud, his emerald eyes flashing with horror as his fingers darted to the sharp glass embedded into his flesh. 

“Take it out and you’ll bleed to death,” Tom growled. “Move and it’ll tear your heart.”

Short, shallow breaths left Lestrange’s mouth as he laid on the ground, his dark shirt torn to reveal his flesh seeping crimson. Tom bent down, grabbing the boy’s wand out of his reach and snapping it in half, throwing both halves across the room in a fit of rage. Nearby, he spotted Hendrix’s wand. 

Hendrix.

Avalon.

Fuck.

The sound of choked wheezing broke him out of his choppy thoughts. He looked at Lestrange, the boy’s eyes wide and frantic as he fixated on the shard of glass dug into his body so dangerously close to his vital organs. 

One move and he’d be dead. 

Tom wanted to rip the glass out of his chest and watch as the life drained from his body. 

No.

Not now.

Not  _ yet _ .

He briskly strode to where Avalon’s wand was lying discarded on the ground and snatched it off the ground before exiting the room, ignoring Lestrange’s pleas to not leave him alone.

He broke out into a run the moment the door shut behind him, and he bolted towards his own bedroom. The sounds of the party were still echoing through the chambers, but he couldn’t hear anything past the sound of his own heartbeat. 

He wanted to burst the door open. He wanted to rip it off its hinges. But she was inside. 

So, he quietly and gently opened it up and slowly walked inside, closing the door behind him.

She was sitting on his desk chair, hugging the back to her chest as she stared at the floor before her. Her eyes didn’t meet his when he came inside. She didn’t even move. 

His voice was quiet when he spoke. “Hendrix.”

Nothing.

Silence.

She hated silence.

“Avalon,” he said, taking another hesitant step forward. Her eyes lifted to meet him. They looked lifeless. 

She looked lifeless.

There were dried rivers of anguish staining her cheeks. He didn’t know why the sight bothered him so much, but it did. It bothered him so fucking much.

He was going to kill Lestrange.

Her wand was still in his hands, so he lifted it up for her to see and cautiously began walking towards her, closing the space between them inch by inch, waiting for her to protest, but she didn’t. When he finally reached her, he held it out before her and watched as she timidly reached out and took it from his fingers, instantly clutching it tightly to her chest. Her eyes returned to the floor, but her hand reached up and tried to wipe a stray tear off of her paled cheeks, accidentally smearing her own face with the lingering remnants of Lestrange’s blood that was still staining her fingers. 

Never before had he seen her look so… so broken. 

He found himself wishing that she would say something-- say anything-- to fill the silence that he knew she hated. But, she didn’t. She just stared wordlessly at the ground, her eyes dull and empty. Devoid of the fire that he was so used to seeing within her. 

He reached past her, grabbing a neatly folded handkerchief off his desk before kneeling down in front of her, resting on his knees as he sat eye-level with her. With a quick flick of his wand, he wet the cloth and gently lifted his hand to her cheek to wipe the blood off. 

She flinched at his touch. 

He was going to kill Lestrange. 

His hand drew back quickly, but her eyes lingered on the fabric nestled between his fingers. Slowly, he lifted it back towards her bloodied skin, and this time she watched him as he quietly worked at washing the remnants of the crimson stain off of her skin. 

Neither of them spoke as he worked. It took longer than he had anticipated. There was more blood on her than he cared to see-- on her face, arms, hands, neck-- though he was at least glad it was all Lestrange’s. 

He discarded the bloodied rag into a nearby waste bin before returning his focus to her. Her fingers were gripped tightly around her wand, though they were trembling profusely. Even her breathing was sharp and ragged.

He wanted to say something, to ease her, but he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what to bloody say, and he didn’t know what to fucking do. Seeing her like that unsettled him and rendered him quite uncertain of his next actions. 

Was he supposed to speak to her? Comfort her? Was he supposed to put a hand on her shoulder? On her arm? 

He didn’t know, but as the silence crept in on them once more, he knew that he had to fill the space with noise. 

So he hummed. 

Her grip on her wand loosened ever so slightly when the subtle tune of Vivaldi flooded her ears and outcast the deafening silence that had plagued the room. 

Tom kept his eyes locked on her face, though he was aware of the way the top button of her shirt had been ripped off, and the next few buttons hastily undone. The lace outline of her bra was peaking out, and her shoulder remained exposed as the fabric slouched off her frail figure. 

Keeping his gaze steady with hers, he gently reached out and began buttoning up her shirt. He held his breath as he did so, a part of him worried that she would flinch again. But, she didn’t, and his fingers delicately brushed her skin as he made sure to pull her blouse back into its rightful position and cover her up. 

When he looked deeper into her eyes, he saw a tiny semblance of light return. Her stare was still hazy-- due to shock, intoxication, or both, he still couldn’t tell-- but he could see life beginning to return to them. 

When he heard her soft voice begin to hum along with him, it was hard to not let out a sigh of relief. But, he kept it in, doing his best to remain as composed as possible for her sake. 

The quiet song soon died out, though, and they were left once more in a sickening quiet. 

He didn’t want to ask, but he had to know. “Did he-”

“No,” she said, speaking for the first time and cutting him off with a voice that was quiet, but strong. For her sake, he was relieved. But her admission did nothing to quell the raging fury that was burning through his veins. 

He was going to kill Lestrange. 

A particularly loud chorus of cheers infiltrated the room from the ongoing party, making them both painfully aware of how oblivious the rest of the world was to the events of the night. He knew her better than to think she would want to face the people outside. There was nothing she hated more than looking weak, that much he knew, so it was glaringly obvious to him that she would not be rushing to leave if it meant she’d have to walk through the mass of people outside in her current state. 

He quietly stood and walked over to the trunk at the foot of his bed and pulled out a blanket and pillow, quietly placing them on the desk by her. 

She tried to hide it, but he saw her lift her hand back to her face as she wiped away another tear. It wasn’t until that moment that he saw the ghastly red handprints left along her wrists. He inhaled a sharp breath, but wasn’t able to steady his breathing again. “Will you be okay if I leave for a bit?” he asked, his voice stoic. She nodded and he began hastily making his way to the door. “I’ll be back. There’s just something I have to do.”

There was a hesitation in her response, but she spoke up right before he turned the doorknob. Finally, she said, “What are you going to do?”

He didn’t turn to face her. He didn’t want her to see the way his eyes had darkened at the thought of the boy he had left bleeding in the other room. All he did was say, “Try to get some rest,” and then walk out the door, closing it behind him before he could hear her protest. 

He was going to kill Lestrange.

And he was going to take his fucking time.

His legs carried him instinctively back to Lestrange’s room and he slammed the door open to reveal the boy lying in a pool of his own blood, the bottle still lodged deep into his chest. With a flick of his wand, he locked the door behind him before storming over towards Lestrange. There was little semblance of consciousness in his eyes and his skin had become a ghastly white as his vitality seeped out of his body more and more with each passing moment. 

The sight disgusted Tom. 

A part of him wanted to leave Lestrange there… or better yet, twist the damn bottle deeper into his chest until it punctured his pathetic excuse of a heart. But, that wasn’t enough. 

No, he wanted to make him suffer.

He wanted to make him  _ beg _ for death.

He pointed his wand at Lestrange and watched as the pool of scarlet liquid around him slowly shrunk in size, seeping back into the boy’s body as the color returned to his face. Just as his green eyes began to flutter open, Tom leaned over Xavier’s body and placed a foot to the left of the wound and gripped the neck of the bottle with his hand before yanking it out, keeping Xavier’s violently thrashing body down under the weight of his shoe. 

Screams echoed through the dorm, but the silencing charm kept it all inside the confines of their own bubble. Nobody could hear him and nobody would save him. 

Tom pressed the heel of his shoe further down into Lestrange’s chest, watching as blood sputtered out of the wound like a ruby fountain. Guttural coughs erupted from the boy’s mouth and Tom watched stone-faced as Lestrange began to choke up his own blood. His eyes had become bloodshot from the strain of his agony, but Tom was only getting started.

He lifted his foot off of the writhing heir and pointed his wand at him, healing the wound before he began pacing along the side of the room. His face was expressionless. Stone-cold. Icy.

As he felt the wound close up, Lestrange let out a gasp of choked air, his breathing ragged and raspy. But, slowly, it began to return to normal. He watched as Riddle slowly circled him from afar, eyeing him like a hunter eyes its prey. Tom’s gaze was unsettling, but Xavier was used to that after years of being in his company. 

“Merlin,” he breathed out. “For a second, I thought you were going to let me bleed to death.”

Tom narrowed his eyes on Lestrange, shaking his head. “No.” And that was the truth. There was no way he’d let him bleed out.

He wanted to kill him himself. 

The answer, however, made Xavier let out a sigh of relief. The worst was over, he thought. Riddle was smart, that much had always been obvious. And Xavier knew that his wealth and connections were his safety net. Tom Riddle would never sever his own personal ties-- he was far too clever for that.

“Look at you,” Tom snarled, circling around Xavier. “Tell me, was it worth it?”

Xavier chuckled to himself, rolling his eyes as he wiped the blood off his mouth with the back of his arm. “Would have been, if you hadn’t interrupted me.”

In that moment, Tom felt a demonic fury overtake his body, momentarily severing his humanity further than either of his horcruxes ever had. Never in his life had he felt a wrath quite like he did as he stared at the boy before him. And he couldn’t even explain why. 

Xavier knew the things Tom was capable of… he knew he had killed, he knew he had hurt, and he knew he’d do it all again. But, a part of him had always thought that his loyalty would spare him from his leader’s wrath. 

He had been mistaken.

When Xavier saw the way Tom’s eyes flashed red, he  _ knew _ he had been wrong: he was not safe. He never had been.

He tried to shove himself off of the ground and to his feet, but before he could, Tom stormed over, his crimson-flashing eyes soulless as he lifted his leg and stomped his foot down on the boy’s shin, a sickening crunch and a harrowing scream flooding the room once more.

Tears began to pour out from Lestrange’s eyes as his shrieks continued. The sound didn’t bother Tom. No. Not one bit.

He craved it.

Xavier couldn’t form words. His body had gone stiff on the floor, though he kept whimpering out in pure agony. 

Tom waved his wand towards the shards of broken glass scattered on the floor from when he had broken the bottle and watched as they floated into the air, hovering above Xavier just moments before they pelted down into his body, piercing his flesh with dozens of deep lacerations. 

Screams.

More screams.

Without a moment of hesitation, Tom healed the skin over the glass, watching as Xavier’s eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head as his agony overtook his senses. Slowly, he made his way over to the boy and stood above him, staring coldly down at his trembling body. A few moments passed as he reveled in the sight of Lestrange whimpering on the ground. Then, Tom spoke. 

“ _ Accio _ .”

The shards of glass ripped out from underneath Xavier’s skin, tearing his body apart from inside as they levitated towards Tom’s hands, freezing in mid-air a moment before he wordlessly threw them aside. 

Slowly, he knelt down to be level with Lestrange’s eyes. Tom’s voice sent a chill down the boy’s spine when he hissed, “Is it still worth it?” Xavier couldn’t speak. Words failed him. All he could do was whimper when Tom said, “We’re only just getting started.”

In the hours that followed, Xavier eventually lost count of how many times Riddle shattered his bones before healing them, just to give himself the satisfaction of snapping them all over again. Every inch of his body was on fire. His throat was raw from screaming so much, and he felt himself slipping in and out of consciousness every so often, but Tom was relentless. 

“P-please,” Xavier whispered, his mouth filling with a metallic taste every time he even tried to speak. 

“Please what?” Tom asked, his voice stoic.

“If…” he had to pause and try to conjure strength to speak. “If you’re g-going… t-to… kill me…” Pause. Cough. Choke. Cry. “J-just d-do… it.”

“Listen to how pathetic you sound,” Tom said, shaking his head. “You disgust me.”

“P-please,” Xavier begged, his eyes brimmed with tears.

Tom wanted to kill him. He wanted to kill Lestrange with every ounce of his being. 

But, hearing the boy beg for his own death… suddenly, Tom didn’t want to give him that kind of mercy. He didn’t deserve the luxury of a quick death. No, Tom thought to himself. Dying was far too easy.

He would force him to live in his own personal hell. 

“I’m not done with you, yet,” Tom said, shaking his head. “Here’s what we’re going to do…” He paused, circling the boy on the ground. His fingers absentmindedly twirled the ring on his finger as he spoke. “I’m going to use the Cruciatus Curse on you until wishing for death will no longer be enough. You’ll wish that you were never born.” He twirled his wand between his fingers, watching blankly as Xavier sobbed and pleaded on the ground, though no real sounds came out of his worn-out mouth. “And then, I’ll use the Imperius Curse on you and watch as you climb to the top of the moving stairwells and throw yourself off. And when people ask you what happened, you’ll tell them you got so drunk at your bloody birthday party that you had an accident, because if you don’t, I will personally rip your heart out of your chest with my bare hands.”

“P-please-”

“Now listen to me very closely,” Tom said, cutting him off. He knelt down beside Xavier and grabbed him by his curly brown hair, lifting his head up to meet his gaze. “From this moment on, every breath that you breathe will be with oxygen that I have allowed you to have. Every second you are alive will be spent indebted to me and everything that you do will be done only with my blessing. Am I understood?” Xavier tried to nod. “I said am I understood?”

“Y-yes,” the boy choked out.

“Yes,  _ what _ ?”

“Y-yes... my L-Lord.”

Tom leaned in, his cold eyes staring into Xavier’s as he hissed, “And I swear, if you so much as  _ look _ in Hendrix’s direction ever again,” he paused, letting go of the boy’s hair and watching as his head limply fell forward onto the ground. “She will be the last thing you ever see.”

Xavier opened his mouth, but Tom spoke before he could.

“ _ Crucio _ .”


	28. Chapter 28

Once.

Twice.

Three times she turned the hourglass on Tom’s desk over. 

Three hours since he had left.

The blanket and pillow he had given her remained untouched as she stared at the door, her wand gripped tightly in her hands. Slowly, she got to her feet. 

She felt like an intruder in her own body. Her movements didn’t seem to belong to her as she trudged over to the door. 

The music outside had come to a halt a while back and as she pressed her ear to the door, all seemed quiet. With trembling fingers, she cracked the door open, her wand still clutched in her firm grip as she peeked outside. 

The hallway was empty and no sounds came from the common room. It appeared the party had finally come to an end. Her feet carried her down the hall, tip-toeing as she descended out of the boys’ dorms. 

When she reached Lestrange’s room, she paused outside it for a moment and tried to see if she could hear anything from within.

Silence.

Silence scared her. 

Silence meant that there was something that needed to be hidden from. 

An overwhelming feeling of nausea hit her as she stood outside that door. The walls suddenly began to feel as though they were closing in on her. She knew she had to get out of the bloody dungeons. 

So she ran.

She ran as fast as her legs could carry her until she made it out of the hallway, out of the common room, and into the castle’s corridor, nearly stumbling over her own feet twice. The hallways were quiet, the only sound echoing through them was the dragging of her own feet across the stone floors. She couldn’t control her body even if she wanted to-- it was moving on its own accord, taking her further and further from Slytherin without any account of where to go. 

The hall felt stuffy and her lungs longed for fresh air, so she scrambled towards the castle’s exit, bolting outside into the cool night.

The cold was welcome on her skin and for a moment, she was able to steady herself and take in a deep breath, shutting her eyes as she tried to quell the violent shaking of her own body.

Then, she threw up. 

A mixture of alcohol and anxiety left her mouth as she heaved onto the grass, her throat suddenly overrun with a burning sensation that left her insides feeling raw. She couldn’t shake the feeling of disgust that washed over her as she doubled over the ground, her breathing choppy as her eyes brimmed with tears once more.

And suddenly, nothing.

She felt nothing.

No pain, no fear, no anger, no remorse, no nothing.

Numb. She just felt numb.

Slowly, she rose back up and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, her bloodshot eyes staring blankly in front of her as her feet dragged her back towards Ravenclaw Tower. She didn’t know who was controlling her body, but it wasn’t her. It was as though she were a marionette being pulled forward by a puppeteer’s strings, her actions nothing more than jerking reactions to a force beyond her control. 

She imagined that this was what it felt like to be a ghost-- floating aimlessly through the halls, existing somewhere between life and death-- an outsider to time, itself.

Next thing she knew, her hand was on the doorknob of her own room. She twisted it open, her feet trudging forward as the door slammed shut behind her, enveloping her in the darkness of the room.

Zelda’s rose from her bed, her sleeping mask still draped over her eyes as she sat up and grumbled out a string of choice words. Her hands aimlessly searched her nightstand for her wand, finally grasping it after moments of fumbling around. She ripped off her mask and waved her wand, illuminating the room with a dull glow. “Merlin, you really need to stop coming home so late-.” Her words were cut short when her tired eyes landed on Avalon. The instant she saw tears in her roommate’s eyes, she knew something was terribly wrong. Immediately, she scrambled out of bed and approached Avalon, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder as she led the blank-faced girl to her bed and sat her down on the edge of the mattress. “Avalon…”

It all came rushing back.

Avalon’s body began to violently tremble as choked sobs escaped her lips, her shoulders heaving up and down as her anguish poured out of her one tear at a time. She tried to bury her face in her hands and Zelda’s eyes widened when she spotted the red marks lingering on her roommate’s wrists. 

Zelda wrapped her arms around Avalon, hugging her tightly as she cried. She rubbed her back and stroked her hair, continuously whispering to her that everything was going to be okay. But, seeing the strong girl she had grown to cherish break down before her scared her. It scared her a lot.

“Love,” she sighed, pulling away slightly to wipe the tears off of Avalon’s quivering figure. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

Everything was wrong.

She had been wrong.

About him. About them. About it all.

She had been wrong.

She had known him. She had grown to like him. She had even begun to trust him.

And she had been wrong.

He wasn’t a faceless Death Eater. He wasn’t a stranger in a battle. He wasn’t someone who had killed her friends.

He had been kind and charming and romantic and funny… and she felt stupid.

Stupid for falling for his lies. Stupid for letting her guard down around him. Stupid for thinking she had the upper hand. Stupid for thinking he could be salvaged.

Stupid for thinking he could have been one of the good guys. 

For the first time in her life, Avalon felt as though she couldn’t tell good from evil. It had always been black and white: Death Eaters versus the Order, green versus red, light versus dark. But, as she thought about the two boys, she was at a loss. 

She didn’t know anymore. She didn’t know anything anymore.

The lines had been blurred, and she was afraid. 

Lestrange had tried to hurt her.

Riddle had saved her.

She had been wrong.

Everything was wrong.

“Avalon,” Zelda said, her soothing voice breaking Avalon out of her thoughts as she gently wiped more tears off of her friend’s cheek. 

Avalon opened her mouth to speak, but her voice failed her. She took in a deep breath and quietly cleared her throat, trying to muster up the strength to croak out one word. “Lestrange.”

“Did you two break up?” Zelda asked cautiously, trying to understand the situation.

But, Avalon didn’t reply. She only stared blankly ahead as tears silently trickled down her cheeks and onto her blankets. 

Zelda’s eyes trailed back to her roommate’s wrists, the lingering imprints of fingers still glowing on her skin, sure to bruise by the sunrise. She began to piece things together, but the realization was so terrible that she didn’t want to believe it. Reluctantly, she asked, “Did he hurt you?”

Avalon’s silence was the loudest answer she could have given. 

Zelda pulled her back into her arms, hugging her tightly as Avalon fell apart in her hold. “I’m going to kill him,” Zelda said-- more to herself than to her roommate-- while she comforted the sobbing girl in her embrace. 

Avalon buried her face into Zelda’s shoulders, her tears staining the soft cotton fabric of her roommate’s nightgown. They sat like that for quite some time-- Zelda whispering that everything was going to be okay and that she would never let anyone hurt Avalon again until a semblance of peace returned into her friend’s trembling body. 

The next word slipped out of Avalon’s mouth so quietly that Zelda almost missed it. “Riddle.”

Zelda’s body tensed for a moment as her anger doubled. “I’m going to-”

“He saved me.”

The words felt unnatural coming off her tongue, but hearing them aloud solidified what she had been thinking all along: Tom Riddle had saved her. Zelda was stunned into silence, but it didn’t matter. Avalon was too lost in her own mind to listen, anyway.

She thought about his eyes.

Dark coffee eyes. 

Concerned.

Furious. 

Gentle.

She had been wrong.

Her mind felt frazzled with a million jumbled thoughts, but she didn’t have the energy to delve into any of them. A sudden wave of overwhelming exhaustion overtook her and she whispered, “I’m tired.”

Zelda nodded, shuffling off the bed and pulling Avalon’s blankets to the side, patting the space and motioning for her roommate to climb under the covers. Slowly, Avalon obliged and crawled into the bed. “You do know I love you, right?”

It felt nice to hear those words. It had been quite some time since she’d heard them said to her. “I love you, too.”

Zelda reached out and grabbed her hand, giving it a tight squeeze. “You are the strongest person I have ever met, but it’s okay to not feel strong all the time. I will be here with you through thick and thin. Forever.”

Avalon squeezed Zelda’s hand back, a weak, but genuine, smile finding its way onto her lips. When she felt Zelda begin to walk away, she didn’t want to let go of her friend’s hand and quietly pleaded, “Can you stay?”

Without a moment of hesitation, Zelda quietly climbed onto the other side of Avalon’s bed and curled up behind her. “You’re going to be okay,” she said, and as Avalon listened to her speak, she somehow believed her. “Goodnight, lovey.”

Zelda turned the lights back off with a flick of her wand, letting the darkness envelop them for the rest of the long night.

Within moments, Avalon passed out, the weight of her exhaustion dragging her into sleep in little to no time. But, her roommate stared blankly into the darkness for the duration of the night, trying to make sure she laid still so that her friend could rest. She listened to the sound of Avalon’s heartbeat for hours before finally falling asleep, though she found no solace in her slumber.

She awoke to the feeling of Avalon’s body slowly sitting up. Her body moved like a zombie as she got out of bed and quietly excused herself, saying she needed a shower as she slipped out of the room, leaving Zelda alone with nothing but her own frustration.

For a few moments, she sat there, unable to move as she thought about Lestrange. That bloody  _ bastard _ . 

Zelda had never been a fighter. She had always been much more drawn to logic and reason than brute aggression, but in that moment, she wanted nothing more than to make that boy hurt. Badly.

She shook her head and stood up, deciding to go grab breakfast for herself and Avalon while her roommate was washing off. Without wasting any time, she quickly changed out of her nightgown and put on a fresh change of clothes before making her way out of their room, out of the Tower, and towards the Great Hall. 

_ Blueberry-lemon scones and coffee with cream and sugar _ , she thought to herself. 

People waved good morning to her as she walked, but she didn’t have the patience to stop and talk to anyone. Until she saw him.

His eyes landed on her at that same moment, and they both gravitated towards one another. Zelda crossed her arms as she met him, narrowing her eyes on the dark-haired Prefect. His eyes were sunken, dark circles hollowed out beneath his sleepless stare. It was no secret that he had slept just as little as she had.

They both spoke at the same time.

“Where is she?” 

“Where is he?” 

They both paused, but Zelda was the first to continue. “You first.”

“In the hospital,” Riddle answered, earning a raised brow from Shacklebolt. “He had an accident. Fell off the moving stairwells.”

“Is that what you’re calling it?”

His expression remained unchanged. “Where is she?”

“Why do you care?”

He felt his jaw clenching, but he tried to remain calm. “When I got back to my room, she was gone. I wanted to make sure she was safe.”

“And since when are you so concerned about her safety?”

“Where is she, Shacklebolt?” he asked, his volume rising, patience wearing thin.

She glared at him for a moment before slowly admitting, “She came back late last night and went to bed. I was getting breakfast for us while she went to wash off.”

He had never seen Shacklebolt look quite so angry. The lucid look in her eyes was replaced with a burning intensity that he had only ever seen before in…

Avalon.

The image of her eyes was ingrained into his mind.

Hazel. 

Hurt.

Scared.

Empty.

It was the emptiness that had unsettled him the most. To see her without that usual spark in her stare… 

Shacklebolt’s voice snapped him out of his own thoughts. “If Lestrange ever comes near her again-”

“I’m fairly certain that won’t be a problem,” he said, cutting her off. 

She stared him down, but her gaze was doubtful. He began to wonder what kind of things Avalon had said to her roommate about him to make the girl look at him with so much distrust. Slowly, she closed the space between them until she looked up at him and snarled, “Riddle, if I find out that you had  _ anything _ to do with this… Lestrange won’t be the only one in the hospital.” She began to walk away, but paused, lingering a few feet away from him when she said, “But, thank you. For stepping in, I mean.”

And, without another word, she walked away, leaving him in the corridor. 

He had to admit that he was impressed with her tenacity. Perhaps Avalon had rubbed off on her, he thought to himself. He was, however, oddly at ease knowing that Hendrix had someone like Shacklebolt to look after her. The girl was loyal beyond belief, that much was obvious.

Slowly, he began to walk away, but his mind was plagued with visions of Lestrange. The thought of him made Tom’s vision go red.

Red as the blood that he had scrubbed off of his own hands just hours prior. 

Red as the sparks that flew from his wand as he made the pathetic bastard beg for mercy.

Red as the momentary color of his own eyes when he saw his reflection in Lestrange’s mirror. 

All he saw was red.

But, his mind strayed back to Avalon… it always did.

And visions of red slowly faded away at the thought of her. 

He was left with hazel.

All he saw was hazel. 


	29. Chapter 29

The weekend dragged by slowly.

Avalon only left her room once to take a shower, otherwise sitting curled up in her bed while Zelda kept her company. Over time, it became easier for her to speak, and she eventually told her roommate everything that had happened on that godforsaken night. 

It helped to talk about it, and thankfully, Zelda was a phenomenal listener. So, they talked, cried, hugged, and sat together as seconds turned to minutes turned to hours turned to days. 

There wasn’t a word adequate enough to describe how grateful she felt to have Zelda in her life. She valued their friendship more than she could ever dream of describing. In a time where her isolation was her only constant, it was nice to have someone who grounded her-- who reminded her that she mattered to someone.

After the first night, Avalon insisted that she felt okay enough to sleep on her own. But, for the first time in ages, that night… she finally had a new nightmare.

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw green.

Green eyes.

Green magic. 

It was always green. 

Come Monday, she had deep-set circles forming beneath her tired eyes from lack of sleep. Getting out of bed was hard, but Zelda made sure to bring her breakfast and coffee-- with cream and sugar, of course-- to help make it easier. 

She dressed herself slowly, making sure her sleeves covered the purple bruises littered along her wrists, but avoided looking into a mirror the entire time. Her own reflection felt foreign to her. She didn’t want to see it. 

She dreaded going to class. The thought of having to come face to face with  _ him _ made her skin crawl. Zelda had told her that he was in the hospital, but that had been days ago, and she hadn’t heard of him since.

Word had spread that Lestrange had ‘fallen off the moving stairwells.’ 

Apparently, it was some massive freak accident caused by ‘his excessive alcohol consumption.’

Fury. Dark coffee eyes. Furious.

She knew better than to believe that it had been an accident.

It didn’t make sense to her. It didn’t make sense why Riddle would have stepped in, or why his eyes would hold so much rage, or why he would try to take care of her after. It didn’t make sense how he seemed angrier at Lestrange than he had ever been at her, even when she had invaded his mind, even when she had dueled him, even when she had brought up that he was a half-blood.

She didn’t know what he had done to Lestrange, but she didn’t doubt his involvement in the boy’s hospitalization. 

But, why?

That was the question that had been on her mind all weekend. 

Admittedly, finding the Horcruxes had not been a priority for her over the past few days. But, as she thought about Tom, she couldn’t help but admit that he had complicated things. Whether she wanted to accept it or not, he had confused her. 

And for the first time, thinking about having to kill him almost caused her to throw up again. 

“Are you ready, love?” Zelda asked, breaking her out of her thoughts.

Slowly, she nodded, picking up her book bag and walking out the door, her roommate at her side the entire way to class. When they arrived, they made sure to sit right in the front of the room, as far away from where the boys typically sat in the back. 

Riddle and Rosier arrived together a few minutes after. She could feel Riddle’s eyes trying to catch hers as he walked by her and Zelda’s table, but she made sure to keep her gaze down, focusing on her book until she heard the two of them take their seats far behind her. 

She could feel her heartbeat in the back of her throat as she waited to see if the third boy would show up. She waited and waited and waited…

But class started.

He was nowhere to be seen. 

Merrythought taught a lesson about Merlin-knows-what. Avalon wasn’t paying attention-- she couldn’t. And she couldn’t shake the feeling of Riddle’s eyes drilling holes into the back of her head all throughout the class, either. 

Despite usually being one of the first people to raise his hand and answer the professor’s questions, Riddle was uncharacteristically quiet as the lesson dragged on. Even Zelda was silent, leaving Merrythought forced to call on random students as the two most vocal pupils kept to themselves for once. 

Avalon’s eyes focused on the hourglass in front of the room. It felt as though time was passing in slow-motion, each grain of sand falling down like a drop of sweet molasses. It nearly drove her mad.

Though, eventually, class came to an end. She didn’t have to pack her things back up-- she had never taken them out of her bag to begin with. 

She stood by and waited as Zelda neatly packed her notes before the two of them started to leave the class. 

“Hendrix,” she heard Riddle’s voice call out. She knew that she would have to face him eventually, but she couldn’t do it right now. Not now. Not there. She quickened her pace and kept walking. “Avalon!” She heard his footsteps approaching and soon enough, he had strode in front of her, blocking her path. Zelda looked between the two of them, ready to intervene if needed, but Avalon remained expressionless as she looked up and her eyes met his. 

A part of her felt like she owed him a thank you-- the rest of her refused to owe anything to the future Dark Lord. It was an odd feeling, to be indebted to the person who stole everything from her. And it was tearing her apart inside thinking about it. 

“We need to talk,” he said, a sense of urgency in both his tone and his eyes.

That was true, they did. But, she wasn’t ready. 

Not yet, at least.

She kept his gaze for just a moment longer before looking straight ahead and stepping past him. He began to try to follow her, but Zelda grabbed his wrist, giving him a stern look before saying, “She’ll come around when she’s ready.”

He wanted to disregard Shacklebolt’s words, but he chose to watch as the two roommates scurried out of the classroom, blending in with the crowd in the hallway as they began their descent down the castle grounds. 

The two of them began their journey to their next class, walking in silence as the world around them echoed with laughter and chatter from their peers. Hearing so much joy around her… it was unsettling. 

_ Her _ world had come crashing down three nights ago. 

She had almost forgotten that the rest of the world had not. 

“Ava!”

Orion pushed past several people in the halls, trying to reach Avalon and Zelda. She debated ignoring him-- admittedly, she wanted to.

She was doubting every single relationship that she had with those boys. If she had been so morbidly wrong about one of them, how could she know that she wasn’t going to get hurt by the others? 

The line between good and evil had never been so blurred for her before and it scared her near to death. Avalon had always taken pride in her judgement of character. For years now, her life had relied on her ability to know who to trust and who to not. She had survived a war, survived hiding, and survived every obstacle thrown her way because she knew who she could place her faith in. 

Until now. 

“Hey,” he panted out as he reached them, the smile on his face contorting into a subtle look of confusion when he noticed her dark circles and bloodshot eyes. “I’ve been looking for you for days.”

Zelda shot Avalon a look, as if asking if she should tell Avery to go away, but Avalon quietly muttered out, “I’ll catch up with you in class, Z.”

Her roommate nodded, but she eyed Avery suspiciously before saying, “I’ll save you a seat,” and leaving the two of them alone. 

Orion’s eyes narrowed on her as he took in her tired appearance. “How are you feeling?” She didn’t know how to answer that, so she didn’t. He noted her silence before he continued to speak. “I’ve looked for you at mealtimes, but you weren’t there.”

“I’ve been in my room,” she muttered, her voice so quiet that it made him uneasy. She wasn’t acting like herself, and it worried him.

“I haven’t seen you in the Hospital Wing… I’m going to go check back up on Xavier after classes, if you’d like to join me.” His eyes floated down to her hands before he gently took them into his own and pried her fingers out of her palms, unraveling them before she could dig any further into her skin-- she hadn’t even noticed she had been doing that. “I know this must be tough for you, but he’ll be better soon. Madam Bardot will-”

“I have to go,” she suddenly said, pulling her hand away from his grasp and trying to push past him.

“Woah, woah,” he called out, quickly blocking her path. His eyes were wide, as if afraid he had said something wrong. “What’s wrong?”

He looked so genuinely hurt that she almost debated telling him everything right then and there, but she decided not to. It still wasn’t clear to her who was and who wasn’t a genuine friend to her-- as much as she wanted to push the thought to the side, she was even beginning to worry that Orion was only using her for some ulterior motive. 

It was hard to tell. 

Nothing made sense.

So, she just muttered out once more, “I have to go,” and quickly walked away, ignoring him as he called out to her once more while she slipped into the crowd. 

\------

Three more days passed without any sign of Lestrange returning to class. This marked six days of him being in the hospital. 

Six whole days.

She began to wonder what exactly Riddle had done to him. Broken bones could be fixed overnight-- his prolonged stay had to be due to something else, entirely. A small part of her didn’t want to know, but a greater part wanted every goddamn detail. 

It had been nearly a week since the party, but the memory still plagued her mind every time she closed her eyes. But, what was even worse was the way she constantly had to think about how she owed her safety to none other than Tom Riddle. 

The man who killed her friends. The man who killed her professors. The man who killed her classmates.

The boy who saved her.

She tried not to think about it, telling herself that one good action did not negate the horrors he would one day commit under his next name. But that excuse was becoming a lot harder for her to rationalize nowadays.

She was sitting at the Ravenclaw table at dinnertime with Zelda while her roommate spoke about homework assignments. Avalon was only partially listening, but Zelda didn’t mind-- she was just glad to see her roommate finally leaving their dorm.

Her plate of food remained untouched before her, and she had to be reminded to eat on several occasions before she would reluctantly shove a small morsel into her mouth and return to staring blankly at the space before her. 

For a moment, her gaze trailed up and she caught Riddle’s stare. He didn’t look away when their eyes met. In the past few days, she had constantly caught him looking her way, but that’s all he did. He didn’t push her to speak to him, and he seemed to be giving her space, which she definitely needed. But, every time she looked at him, she felt a pit of nausea rise into her stomach. She couldn’t look at him without thinking about her mission… and that made her feel sick.

She lost her already absent appetite. 

Quietly, she stood up. Zelda stopped mid-sentence, watching her as she got to her feet. “Are you alright?”

Avalon nodded absentmindedly. “Yes… I’m sorry. I just want to go back to our room.”

“No need to apologize, love. Do you want me to come with you?”

“It’s alright. I think I just need a little time to myself,” she admitted. 

“Of course,” her roommate smiled. “I love you, I’ll see you back in the room after I finish dinner.”

“I love you, too. I’ll see you there,” she said, forcing a soft smile before making her way out of the Great Hall. 

With most of the students busy at dinner, the hallways were empty as Avalon made her way towards the stairwell. She absentmindedly hummed Vivaldi to herself as she walked, just loud enough so she could fill her ears with anything but the sound of the silence. 

She began to climb up the stairs, making her way towards Ravenclaw Tower, when she noticed the sound of footsteps coming down. 

Their gazes met for only an instant as he walked down the stairs and she went up, but in that moment, it felt as though time came to a halt. 

Empty. Green eyes. Soulless. 

He looked away almost immediately and continued his descent, the muscles in his jaw twitching ever so slightly, yet he kept his mouth shut and walked without saying a single word to her. Still, she paused on that stairwell, suddenly frozen in her own thoughts.

He had looked like a walking corpse. 

His eyes were sunken, his cheeks hollowed out and skeletal, and his skin devoid of any hint of color that had ever graced his features. 

She couldn’t shake the image of his eyes out of her head. Those eyes… she would know those eyes anywhere. 

Those were the eyes of someone who had been tortured under the Cruciatus Curse. 

She had looked into Hermione’s eyes for months and seen the same thing: hollow, vacant, absent. 

Hermione. 

The brightest witch, the brightest mind that she had ever known-- destroyed by Voldemort and his fucking followers. 

Her body whipped around just in time to see Lestrange slip into the shadows of the hallway, turning a corner without ever looking back to meet her gaze… and she felt her breathing growing heavy. 

Hermione.

The strongest friend she’d ever had-- destined to a fate even worse than what Lestrange had to endure. 

Hermione.

The first friend she ever made at Hogwarts, and one of the last people she had to watch wither away before her eyes.

Avalon couldn’t help but clench her fists as she stared at the spot where Lestrange had just slipped off into. A sense of newfound purpose entered her once more as she thought about her friend back in her own time. 

Hermione’s fate rested in her hands. 

All of their fates rested in her hands.

And she wasn’t going to let a spoiled wealthy bastard come between her and her mission. She wasn’t going to let herself be weakened by a pathetic boy and his selfish nature. She had been through  _ war _ and survived. She was a survivor, then, now, always.

And she was angry.

She was fucking angry.


	30. Chapter 30

Avalon and Zelda walked in a tense silence. No words were spoken, but they were both thinking the same thought:  _ today was the day that he would be coming back to class _ .

When Avalon told her roommate the night prior that she had seen Lestrange in passing, she was met by an uncharacteristically angry Zelda. It appeared the normally serene girl tapped into an uncontrollable fury when her friends’ safety was at stake. Avalon found herself thinking of how much of a valuable asset Zelda would have been to the Order-- intelligent, brave, and loyal beyond belief. She was a powerful force, and Avalon was glad that she was on Zelda’s good side.

On the other hand, Zelda was proud to have found a friend in Avalon. She admired her roommate’s bravery and perseverance. It had become apparent to her quite early on that Avalon was a titan of sorts, but not until this past week did she truly understand the true extent of her friend’s strength. 

When Zelda returned from dinner the night prior, she had found Avalon pacing alone in their room upon her arrival. When their eyes met, she had to try and hide the smile that threatened to creep onto her lips when she saw the burning fire in her roommate’s gaze. She had missed seeing that spark-- Avalon’s power rested in her emotions, and it appeared one had finally returned to her devoid stare last night: rage. 

When they reached the entrance to their Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, they both paused outside for a moment. “If you need to leave at any point, just nudge my shoulder and I’ll go with you,” Zelda assured.

“I’ll be okay,” Avalon replied. “But, thank you.”

Without another word, she pushed on the door and they made their way inside.

The class was halfway filled already, but everybody but one seemed to fade into nothingness as Avalon scanned the room. There he was, sitting in the back of the class as usual. But he was nearly unrecognizable. When Avalon had told Zelda just how beat up Lestrange had looked, her roommate hadn’t fully believed her. But, as the two of them stared at the hollow shell of the boy they once knew, it became apparent that even Avalon’s description didn’t convey the severity of his abuse.

He stared at the space in front of him, his green eyes completely vacant as the two of them walked across the room, towards the tables. His ever-present smirk was nowhere to be seen, replaced only by a blank face and trembling fingers that shook almost as badly as Avalon’s. If there was a way to exist somewhere between life and death, she imagined that he was the embodiment of it-- heart beating, yet no longer for a purpose. 

She couldn’t take her eyes off of him, no matter how hard she tried. It was like watching a burning trainwreck-- horrible, but impossible to look away from. Still staring at him, she pulled her chair out from beneath the desk, its drag across the floor sending a shrill shriek throughout the room. 

The sound made his eyes flicker up, and for a moment, their gazes met.

Avalon’s eyes quickly darkened, hatred and anger becoming evident in her stare. 

She hadn’t expected to see the same things in his eyes.

The emptiness drained from him the moment he saw her. His green eyes nearly became black as he narrowed his stare, his jaw clenching with the same force that he suddenly gripped his wand with.  _ It was a new wand _ , Avalon noted.

They looked at each other like that for a moment-- storm versus fire, abhorrence versus loathing. Avalon didn’t want to admit it, but the intensity of his gaze unsettled her to the point of the hairs on the back of her neck standing up, sending a chill down her spine. 

For the first time, she could see the real Lestrange shining through. Without the shroud of his charm, the secrecy of his smile, or the illusion of his kindness, she saw his true colors, bright and clear and undeniably there. To the core, she saw his vices as though they were painted across his flesh for all to see. He was evil. 

He was green.

But, then, Riddle and Rosier walked into the class, and Lestrange quickly looked back down at the desk before him, ripping his eyes away from Avalon and once again reverting to a shallow stare as the two boys strode to the table and sat on either side of him. 

Merrythought cleared her throat from the front of the room and the chattering amid the class came to a standstill as she prepared to begin the lesson. “Good morning, class. If you would all open your books to page 867, we will begin today’s lesson.”

Avalon and Zelda both opened their books, immediately staring at the title sprawled across the top of the page. 

_ Defensive Dueling Tactics _ .

The professor waited a few minutes for everyone to take out their books and get to the right page, tapping her foot in the front of the room as she watched the class come up to speed. When the rustling of flipping paper finally came to a stall, she began to lecture. “Today we will be discussing dueling techniques. Specifically, those that pertain to defensive spells. Think shields, blocks, repellents, and strategic rebounds. When facing immediate danger, it is important to note how to protect yourself if a spell is thrown your way. In battle, you will quickly realize that it is just as important, if not more so, to know how to defend yourself rather than attack your opponent.”

Avalon listened to the lesson, only half paying attention to the spells Merrythought was teaching. They were all rather rudimentary, but she supposed nothing she learned in that class would truly impress her after she had been forced to live through some of the darkest battles of her own time. More so than to the lesson, she found herself focusing on Zelda. 

Her roommate, who usually scribbled down lesson notes as quickly as her quill could possibly move, was sitting still as she stared at the book before her. Her notes remained blank, and Avalon could see the gears in her head spinning, her eyes entranced into a deep pensive state. 

In fact, she didn’t touch her quill once the entire time Merrythought was speaking. It wasn’t until the lesson was coming to a close that she finally shifted her gaze back up toward the professor. 

“When dueling, these techniques can be the difference between life and death,” Merrythought continued. “Though, in the heat of battle, it is easy to forget strategy and succumb to nerves. Which is why practicing beforehand is vital to perfecting these skills. Before we wrap up class, I’d like to have two volunteers come up and demonstrate in a duel the techniques we-”

Zelda’s hand shot up into the air, much to Avalon’s surprise, and the professor abruptly cut off her own sentence to raise an eyebrow. “Yes, Miss Shacklebolt?”

“I’d like to volunteer,” Zelda said, her expression and her voice both stoic. 

The professor smiled brightly at Zelda, thrilled that one of her star students had risen to the occasion. “Wonderful! If you would please join me at the front of the class, we will find you an opponent to-”

“If it’s alright with you, Professor, I’d like to challenge Lestrange.”

Avalon’s eyes widened as she looked at her roommate, but Zelda avoided her gaze, focusing only on looking over her shoulder to glance at Lestrange. His eyes had been staring blankly at the unopened book before him, but the mention of his name broke him out of his trance and his eyes slowly shifted to meet Zelda’s cold glare. Merrythought raised an eyebrow. “Mr. Lestrange, I am aware that you were recently discharged from the Hospital Wing. Are you in the physical shape to be up for the challenge?”

Lestrange opened up his mouth to answer, but Riddle spoke up instead. “Professor, I assure you, he feels fine. Isn’t that right, Xavier?” he asked, a plastic smile spread across his lips as he harshly patted Lestrange on the back. 

Xavier’s jaw clenched so hard that the veins in his neck became increasingly prominent, but he didn’t dare go against Tom’s word, so he slowly stood up and nodded. “Of course,” he muttered out, his voice so hoarse that he had to clear his throat to croak it out. 

Reluctantly, he made his way to the front of the class, standing opposite of Zelda on the other end of the room. He didn’t look afraid, but rather irritated that he had been forced out of his seat. Zelda, however, had the faintest hint of a smile written on her features as she drew her wand, preparing for the duel.

“Wands at the ready,” the professor said as the two of them got in position while the rest of the class sat on the edges of their seats, making sure to get a good view of the two students up front. It was rare for Zelda to volunteer for duels-- despite being one of the brightest witches in their year, she tended to stay out of combat demonstrations, instead opting to volunteer for tasks where she could showcase her more docile talents. 

Today, though… today was different.

“You may begin.”

Lestrange threw the first spell, shouting, “ _ Stupefy _ !”

The flash of red light flew towards Zelda, but she pointed her wand at it and clearly cast, “ _ Protego _ ,” a shimmery shield forming in front of her. But, as the spell collided with her protection, she kept her wand pointed at it, focusing her energy on containing its magic rather than dissolving it. She let out a quiet huff before her eyes met Xavier’s and she slashed her wand towards him, his own spell rebounding powerfully towards him just a moment before he cast his own shield and blocked it without a moment to spare. Zelda didn’t miss a beat, though. With a burning intensity in her eyes, she looked at her opponent and coldy snarled, “ _ Bombarda _ .”

Xavier’s eyes widened and he quickly dropped to his knees, ducking just a moment before the spell landed exactly where his head had been. Missing its intended target, it instead hit the mirror on the wall, shattering it into tiny fragments of fine debris that fell quietly onto the floor in the aftermath of the violent explosion. 

The entire class let out a gasp at the action, and Xavier whipped his head towards the professor, a look of annoyed disbelief on his face as he looked to her for some sort of interference. But, before the professor could say anything, Zelda sent another blast of red light his way. Once again, he only narrowly dodged it. 

His eyes narrowed on his opponent as his trembling fingers gripped harder around his wand. He pointed it at the obliterated mirror on the ground and grumbled out a levitation spell before the pieces began to float up. With a flick of his wand, they merged together, forming a slew of small glass daggers floating in the air. 

Avalon watched in horror as he sent the daggers flying at lightning speed toward Zelda, but her roommate easily threw up a defensive shield just in time to turn the sharp blades back into a fine dust that fell quietly onto the ground. Thankfully, it appeared one of them had been paying attention to Merrythought’s lesson. 

The emptiness that had once plagued Xavier’s eyes had diminished, leaving in its wake a wrath so intense that it unsettled nearly everyone in the room. His movements were harsh and jerky, and his face contorted into a look of aggravation--as if he were growing irritated at the devil on his shoulder whispering into his ear. 

Before Zelda could send any more magic his way, he snarled, “ _ Serpensortia. _ ” 

In the space between them, two cobras slowly emerged out of thin air, their long bodies standing up taller than Zelda as she took a few steps back, putting distance between herself and the enormous serpents. They slithered towards her, their forked tongues flickering out as they bore their fangs and hissed. 

Despite his lack of academic efforts, Lestrange was undeniably powerful. More so than Avalon had ever anticipated, and she found herself growing more and more anxious as she watched her roommate shy away from the advancing snakes.

The entire class watched in horror as Zelda raised her wand toward one of the snakes, getting ready to cast a spell, when the other reptile coiled its body and lunged at her, its sharp fangs inches away from latching onto her wrist when she jerked her wand in its direction and shouted out a transfiguration spell, turning the snake into a long piece of rope. 

Xavier’s eyes narrowed on her as he watched her turn the other snake into rope, too, before levitating both and sending them flying towards him. They twisted around his wrists, and she watched as their grip became so relentless that he let out a pained shout, his fingers losing their grip on his wand as it tumbled out of his grasp and onto the floor. 

Avalon watched as her roommate urged the ropes to tighten more and more around the squirming boy’s wrists, red marks becoming instantly visible from beneath their hold. Looking down at the fading bruises on her own wrists, she knew exactly what her friend was doing. 

“That’s enough, Miss Shacklebolt,” the professor interjected, her voice echoing through the class. “He is unarmed.” But, Zelda was reluctant to let go of her grasp, the ropes only tightening more as she kept her wand aimed directly at the writhing boy. “Miss Shacklebolt, I said enough.”

Zelda’s eyes glanced towards the professor with a hint of agitation before she pulled her wand towards herself, the ropes tugging Xavier forward so violently that he fell onto the ground with a thud, letting out a groan as his head collided with the floor. 

Silence flooded the room as her peers watched in disbelief as one of the most disciplined and typically proper students unleashed her anger on her opponent, winning the duel, though keeping an undeniable anger pent up in her gaze as she walked up to the boy on the ground and extended her hand to him. 

Xavier looked up at her with distaste, before reluctantly taking a hold of her hand. As she helped him back to his feet, she whispered just loud enough for only him to hear, “Touch my best friend again and I will end you,” holding his eyes as he glared at her with the same animosity that she sent his way.

The moment he was finally standing upright, Zelda balled her fist and drew her arm back before swiftly colliding it into the side of his face, sending him staggering back several steps as his hand shot up and cupped his cheek, a singular drop of blood dripping down his face as he felt the gash that had formed on his cheekbone from Zelda’s knuckles harshly splitting his skin. 

Every single jaw in the class suddenly fell ajar-- Avalon’s more than anyone else’s-- as Merrythought ran forward and yanked Zelda back, away from Lestrange. “Miss Shacklebolt, you have earned yourself detention tonight! And ten points from Ravenclaw!” 

Zelda rolled her eyes, shaking her hand a little as she looked down at Lestrange’s blood on her skin. Without another word, she walked back to her desk, catching Tom’s eyes for a moment. A satisfied smile found its way onto both of their lips before she lightly laughed to herself and quietly sat next to her shocked roommate while Merrythought quickly worked on fixing Xavier’s injuries in front of the class. 

“Oh… my god,” Avalon said breathlessly. 

Zelda couldn’t help the grin that had found a permanent home on her lips. “I’ve been waiting to do that all week.”

\-----

Avalon sat in her bed, her textbook in her lap as she quietly skimmed through her readings. The early twilight sky twinkled in through her window, the dying sun and the new moon trading spaces as the dark night overtook the last reach of daylight. 

The room felt awfully quiet without Zelda, who was off serving detention for her stunt with Lestrange earlier in the day. To say that she hadn’t enjoyed watching her roommate clobber him in the face would be a lie, though she also made sure to tell Zelda that she didn’t have to do things like that for her sake. 

The Lestrange family was too powerful to have as an enemy. 

Avalon didn’t want her friends to be wrapped up in that mess. She was no fool-- she knew that with money came influence, force, and danger. For their sake, she wanted this entire situation to be forgotten about as quickly as possible, before anyone else was hurt.

She, herself, was moving on quickly. There was no time to waste dwelling on the actions of a pig like Lestrange. If he ever came near her again, she was prepared to castrate him, herself, if need be… that is, if Riddle hadn’t already… 

But, she tried not to think about any of it. There were more important things that she had to focus on. 

Now that she no longer had Lestrange as a pathway to information about Riddle’s Horcruxes, she was at a loss about how she was going to find the bloody objects. She decided to give herself a break from searching and instead focus on how she was going to destroy them once she did find them. 

Unfortunately, she hadn’t the slightest clue, so she knew she would have to do research. After Transfiguration, she had asked Dumbledore for a permission slip to go into the Restricted Section of the library. Thankfully, he had obliged without asking too many questions. He had, as usual, offered her some cryptic advice and a handful of meaningless analogies, but she just smiled, nodded, and pretended to listen while internally begging him to get on with the deal. 

So, her plan was to go the next day and see what she could find. Hopefully, there would be something in the books… admittedly, though, she was less than optimistic.

Her thoughts were cut short, however, by a tapping on her window. She glanced up from her book and her eyes widened when she saw Orion motioning for her to come over. 

Springing out of bed, she scrambled over and opened the window, coming face to face with Avery sitting atop his broomstick, still dressed in his Slytherin Quidditch uniform. “What are you doing here?!” she exclaimed.

“Mind if I come in? I’ll be brutally honest, I’m freezing my ass off,” he chuckled. 

She rolled her eyes and moved to the side, watching as he slid his body through the window, dragging his broom in after him. He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off. “Aren’t you supposed to be at Quidditch practice right now?”

“I snuck off for a bit,” he shrugged. “I heard from some of the Sixth Years on the team that Zelda punched Xavier in your class today…” he said, his words trailing off. “Listen, you need to tell me what’s going on.” She stared at him, registering the concern in his eyes as he quietly paced back and forth, tugging at his hair. “I mean, you’ve been acting strange ever since his birthday party. You didn’t see him in the hospital, you’ve been avoiding all the rest of us, I barely see you anymore… and now this?” His words came out in a rambling mess before he took a deep breath and looked at her. “I just need to know you’re okay. And if you’re not, how can I help?”

“I’m fine-”

“Ava,” he sighed. “I know you better than to believe that. Please, talk to me.”

“We broke up,” she blurted out. “Xavier and I broke up.”

His eyes softened. “I… oh.” There was a moment of hesitation before he asked, “But, why? The two of you looked rather happy at the party.”

She bit the inside of her cheek, speaking through gritted teeth when she said, “Things changed.”

A look of confusion drilled into his features as he shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck. But, slowly, his eyes trailed down and he found himself noticing the fading bruises on her wrists.  _ Zelda Shacklebolt was not the kind of person to get into fights _ , he thought to himself… to drive the ultimate pacifist towards throwing a bloody punch at someone…

She saw his face contort with a sudden flash of realization, a mixture of disbelief, anger, and hurt entering his eyes. “He didn’t…”

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” she grumbled, but watched as he began to storm back towards the window. “Hey-”

“He’s dead,” he said, prying the window open. She quickly closed it back up, placing herself in front of it as he snatched his broom. “Move, Avalon.”

“Trust me, he’s learned his lesson,” she said, refusing to budge.

“Then I’ll teach him a new one,” he muttered, his voice colder than she had ever heard it be before.

“Orion, look at me,” she frowned, forcing his reluctant gaze to meet hers. His eyes were frantic, constantly flicking between her stare, his broom, and the window. “He won’t be a problem anymore.”

“And how can you be so sure of that? That bloody bastard deserves to-”

“He didn’t  _ accidentally _ fall off those stairs.”

“Excuse me?”

She nervously chewed on her bottom lip, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she shook her head. “It doesn’t matter anym-”

“Stop saying that!” He ran a hand through his hair, shutting his eyes for a moment as he let out a frustrated sigh. “It matters, okay? All of it. It all matters!” He buried his head in his hands for a moment before looking at her, his eyes softening. “Ava, I’m so sorry.”

“I just want to move past it.”

He took a few seconds of silence to think before he said, “He should be expelled. One letter to my father and he’s gone.”

“No,” she said sternly, earning a raised brow from him.

“No?”

“I didn’t come here to make myself a target for one of the wealthiest wizarding families in all of Europe. Please, just drop it.”

“What his family has in wealth, mine has in power,” he said. “I swear, all I have to do is-”

“I’m telling you right now that if you truly care for me, you’ll let this go.” He opened his mouth to protest and she cut him off once more. “Orion, I’m serious. Drop it.”

She could see him having to bite back his own words, his jaw clenching before he let out a sigh and nodded. “If that is what you want…”

“It is,” she insisted. And she was telling the truth. Perhaps not the entire truth, but she also wasn’t lying. In all honesty, she was more concerned about Avery than she was herself. She refused to have him put himself in harm’s way by getting in Lestrange’s path. While she wanted to see the bastard get kicked out of school, she also knew that the best option for her, for her friends, and for her mission was to try and keep her head down as much as possible. It was better that way-- for everyone. 

“Alright,” he reluctantly agreed. “But, if you ever change your mind, he’ll be gone within the week.”

She felt a smile find its way onto her lips-- a genuine one, for what felt like the first time in a while. “Thank you.”

He began to outstretch his arms to embrace her when he suddenly stopped himself and looked at her, suddenly questioning if she’d be comfortable being hugged. “Can I-”

“Get over here,” she laughed, burying herself in his arms as he smiled and rested his chin on the top of her head, wrapping her in the comfort of his warm touch. 

He gently rubbed her back as he held her, holding her tightly against his chest when he said, “I do wish I had been there to see Shacklebolt punch him in the face.”

She let out a hearty laugh, pulling away a little bit to look up into his eyes when she said, “It was historic.” 

“Oh, I’m sure,” he chuckled, shaking his head at the thought of it. 

“Orion, can I be honest with you?”

“Of course,” he said, concern suddenly flooding back into his voice.

She grinned up at him before laughing. “You smell bloody awful.”

“Oi, I left practice to check up on you!” he said, pouting as he let go of her. 

“A shower would have been appreciated,” she laughed, scrunching her nose as he rolled his eyes, a hint of a smile on his lips.

“You’re bloody difficult, you know that, right?” he said, earning a wide smile from her. He lifted his arm and sniffed his armpit, frowning at her. “Honestly, I think you’re lying.”

“And I think you’re nose blind.”

“Mmm, no. Check again,” he said before grabbing her once more and trapping her in a tight hug, the two of them laughing as she struggled to get away from him and his sweaty uniform. 

On the other side of the castle, Lestrange sat at his desk, tapping his fingers impatiently on the wood. His right leg shook incessantly as he waited for his roommate to arrive. When Rosier eventually walked in, Xavier sprung out of his chair, his eyes wild and frantic as he looked at Adonis.

“You alright, mate?” Adonis asked, taking note of his friend’s unusual behavior.  _ Riddle truly had done a number on Lestrange _ , he thought wearily to himself. 

“She’s hiding something,” Xavier said, his voice filled with a sense of urgency and paranoia. 

“What?”

“I said she’s hiding something, are you deaf?” he snarled, pacing back and forth as his fingers tangled into his unruly hair, tugging at the ends angrily. 

“Slow down,” Adonis grumbled. “What the bloody hell are you talking about?”

“Hendrix,” Xavier hissed. “She’s hiding something, and I don’t fucking know what but-”

“Are you sure you’re not just angry after all that happened?”

“She went into my memories, Adonis!” he screamed, a deranged look in his eyes as he grabbed his roommate by his collar. “That bitch went into my memories.” His fingers trembled and his eyes blinked sporadically, a slight twitch in his movements as he let out an agitated groan. “I don’t know what she saw, and I don’t know why she bloody did it, but she went into my goddamn memories.”

“Let go of me,” Rosier snarled, shoving his roommate off. “When was this?” he asked, trying to make sense of Lestrange’s mad rambling. 

“After Hogsmeade, when I was in the hospital,” Xavier said, struggling to keep his voice level. “When Bardot gave me the pain medication, my memory became hazy and she used it as a chance to use Legilimency on me!”

“How do you know?”

He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “It’s funny, you know... the things that come back to you when your mind is being crushed for hours. Hilarious, really.” He paused for a moment before he continued to shake his head, and laugh once more. “She has everyone fooled. Avery, Nott, Mulciber… even Riddle.”

“You’re starting to sound mad, mate,” Rosier sighed.

“She’s a fucking liar,” Xavier hissed, his voice cold as ice. “She’s hiding something. And I’m going to find out what it is.” For the first time in a week, his smirk returned to his lips, but even Adonis noticed how there was a sinister look hidden behind his dark green eyes. “And when I do, I’m going to ruin her.”


	31. Chapter 31

“Bloody hell,” Avalon groaned. “If one more person tries to convince me that mash is better than chips, I’m going to lose my goddamn mind.”

“It’s not my fault you lack taste, woman!” Orion laughed, piling a spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth as she shook her head, an annoyed look on her face. The Great Hall was bustling during dinnertime, the grand room filled with the chattering of friends and peers, all echoing together into one indistinguishable blend of conversation. 

Nearly a week had passed since Avery had flown to her room, and since then, things had returned to normal between the two of them. It became increasingly evident to Avalon that her original view on Orion had been correct-- he was a true friend who cared about her deeply. She almost felt guilty for ever doubting that. 

Since learning about what Lestrange had done, Avery spent most of his meal times either with Avalon or with his Quidditch teammates, opting to stay as far away from his old friend as possible. He and Avalon sat at the very end of the Slytherin table, far away from their peers, as they ate their dinner in the peace of their own solitude, but every once in a while, Avalon’s eyes would glance up the table and catch a glimpse of Lestrange, Rosier, and Mulciber all sitting together. 

Rosier and Mulciber seemed to constantly be talking and laughing, but she rarely saw Lestrange join in on their conversation. It appeared his entire demeanor had changed the night of his birthday: gone was the boy with the charming tongue and mischievous smile, replaced only by the ghost of his former self. Every once in a while, she would see him speak to them, but when he did, his face was stoic and his eyes cold-- the Xavier Lestrange she had once known was gone.

She pried her stare away from the boys, shaking her head as she forced her attention back towards Avery. Though, when her eyes landed on him, she saw his own gaze drawn over her shoulder to the Hufflepuff table, an absentminded smile on his lips. She turned around for a moment to follow his eyes, spotting Clara and her friends chatting together at their own table. 

“She left me flowers outside my room the other day,” she said, breaking him out of his trance. 

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I may have told her that you were having a rough couple of days.”

“It was very sweet of her,” she smiled. 

“She handpicked them from the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest,” he chuckled. “The two of us have started to meet each other there once in a while. Can’t say it is the most romantic spot, but at least it gives us privacy.” 

“Be careful around there. There’s a lot of dangerous creatures that roam the area.”

“She knows her way around, don’t worry. We never go deep enough for it to be an issue.” He took a bite out of a cookie, downing it with a glass of milk. “Reckon it’s probably safer for us there than it is here.”

His eyes skirted up as Axel and Rosalie made their way over, stopping beside them. “Nice to see you two finally left our dorm,” he said, sending a sarcastic smile to his best friend. 

Axel chuckled, rolling his eyes. “Hello to you, too.”

“Mind if we join you?” Rosalie asked, to which Avalon and Orion both invited them to sit. Axel quickly wrapped Orion up in a conversation about their next upcoming Quidditch game, rapidly stealing his attention and leaving Rosalie and Avalon on their own. The petite blond girl reached over and began neatly scooping food onto her plate before picking up her fork and knife and cutting into her meal with pristine etiquette. She popped a bite into her mouth before washing it down with a sip of water and patting her lips dry with a napkin, then turning her attention to Avalon between bites. “How have you been, love? I haven’t seen much of you since you and Xavier parted ways.”

“I’ve been well,” Avalon said, and for the most part, she meant that. Things had become a lot easier for her to deal with, and time had given her clarity and healing. “Just keeping busy.”

“Well, try not to be so busy that you forget about the rest of us,” she smiled. “Just because the two of you broke up, doesn’t mean that you have to stop spending time with the group. It’s rare to have girls join us-- I don’t want to lose that.” Avalon opened her mouth to speak, but Rosalie cut her off excitedly. “Tell me you’ll be at the party this weekend.”

“Party?”

“Oh, didn’t you hear? Slytherin is hosting a gathering on Saturday to celebrate Tom being named the next Head Boy!”

“I was honestly unaware he was even selected,” Avalon admitted.

“Apparently, Slughorn accidentally let it slip during Slug Club. I thought you would have heard since-”

“I haven’t really been going to Slug Club recently,” Avalon said. “Regardless, I appreciate the offer, but I think I’ll have to pass.”

“No, you have to join us!” Rosalie pouted. “Adonis was able to get his hands on Veritaserum. We’re going to use it for a game of Truth or Dare. It’ll be fun! Last time we played, Demitri was dared to try and kiss the portrait of Salazar Slytherin. It was all that the paintings chatted about for the next week.” 

Avalon let out a laugh that she hoped didn’t sound too forced. “Perhaps I will try to swing by,” she said, knowing that it was a lie. 

“Please do. We’d love to see you there,” the girl said, her smile returning to her lips.

It was at that moment that Avalon noticed Riddle walk into the Great Hall. His entrance was noticed by several girls near the door, and they quickly pulled him in for conversation, adoration in their eyes as they spoke fondly to the smiling Prefect. It never failed to amaze her how well he hid his true nature behind that flawless smile of his. 

“If you all don’t mind, I’m going to excuse myself now,” Avalon said, standing up abruptly as she grabbed her things off the table. 

“Already?” Rosalie asked. 

“Yeah, stay awhile, Hendrix,” Axel chimed in. 

“I promised Zelda that I would go to the library with her to finish up some work tonight,” she said, her words slightly rushed as she tried to ensure that she would leave before Riddle reached them. “I’ll see all of you around later, alright?”

“I’m going to be around the library tonight, as well,” Orion noted. “I’ll probably see you there at some point.”

“Perfect,” she said, offering them all a half-hearted smile as she began to see Riddle making his way towards them, finally free from the shackles of his previous conversation. “Have a nice rest of your dinner.”

Before the Prefect could reach them, she hastily walked off toward the Ravenclaw table. She had been doing her best to avoid him for the past week. Much of her time had been spent in the library, huddled in the Restricted Section while hounding over books in a desperate attempt to find any sort of information about how to destroy a Horcrux. However, it appeared Horcruxes were not a topic found in books-- even in the Restricted Section-- so her search had been less than successful. Nonetheless, she tried to avoid him. Seeing him only made her think of the night he had intervened to get her to safety, which was a thought that she didn’t like to linger too much on. 

It still made little sense to her why he had helped her-- let alone tortured his own friend over it. But, she did her best to not dwell on the thought. She couldn’t afford to. 

She had found herself growing more and more inclined to question Riddle’s morality these days… and she knew that was a dangerous slope to slide down. He was evil, there shouldn’t be a question about it. She had lived through the catastrophic aftermath of his own path-- her existence in this time was proof that he could not be trusted. And yet, still, she couldn’t stop wondering if a part of his humanity was still intact.

Still, it didn’t matter. She had a job she had to do. And she couldn’t allow herself to fail. Not when so many lives depended on her successfully completing it. 

She finally spotted Zelda sitting with a group of her other friends. When she reached her roommate, she tapped her on the shoulder and watched as Zelda turned around and smiled. “I’m ready to go to the library whenever you are,” she said. 

Zelda nodded, picking up her cup and taking one final sip of her water before turning back to her friends. “I’ll see you all in the common room later,” she said to them, shortly after standing up and grabbing her book bag off the bench beside her, slinging it over her shoulder as she joined her roommate. “Let’s go.”

The two of them made their way over to the exit, but Avalon was painfully aware of the dark brown eyes that followed her as she walked out of the hall. She didn’t dare look in his direction, instead just putting her head down as she entered the outside corridor and began her trek to the library with Zelda.

When they arrived, the space was filled to the brim with countless students. With about two weeks left until the end of the term, many of her peers were beginning to study for their final exams or completing their last assignments. Zelda, always the diligent student, was keen on prepping with ample time, so she had been accompanying Avalon to the library incessantly for the past few days. However, Avalon, herself, found it difficult to prepare for exams when she had much more pressing issues to attend to. 

Zelda grabbed a table for them in an empty back corner of the library and Avalon quickly descended into the Restricted Section, finding two new books and bringing them back with her in hopes of finding something-- anything-- that could be of use to her. 

She stared at the two books before her, taking in a deep breath as she took in the massive size of each title. With an exasperated sigh, she opened up to the first page of the first book and began reading.

Her eyes scanned the words tirelessly. One page became one chapter became one book became both as the hours dragged on and on and on. 

Slowly, the library became less and less crowded as exhaustion took victim even the most persistent students. Even Zelda had become incapable of holding in her yawns as time dragged them into the dead of night. She glanced over at Avalon, who still had her head buried in her books, her eyes showing no signs of tiredness as they quickly scanned every word on each page. “How much longer do you reckon you’ll be here?”

Avalon looked up, shrugging. “A few more hours at least.”

“Merlin, you really are nocturnal, aren’t you?”

“I just have to finish up my work,” she laughed half-heartedly. “You go to bed. I’ll be quiet when I come back.”

Zelda sighed before reluctantly nodding, her sleep-deprivation beating out her desire to push through with her studying. She slowly began putting her things back into her bag, her eyes glancing over to the book in front of Avalon. She narrowed her eyes on it, curiosity in her tone when she asked, “What even are you studying?”

“Just trying to find something for Potions,” she lied, knowing her roommate had opted out of taking that course.

“In a book from the Restricted Section?” Zelda asked, leaning over a bit to get a better glimpse of the book.

“Slughorn recommended I read into them to better understand some of the more arcane potions that we may not cover in class,” she said, letting out an internal sigh of relief when Zelda leaned back into her chair, seemingly accepting the lie. 

“Alright,” Zelda said, her voice tired. “Good luck with your work. Try not to stay up too late, you deserve some rest.”

Avalon smiled and watched as her roommate waved goodbye and headed off, leaving her alone at her table with two completed books and no more useful information than she had hours prior. She took a moment to stare at the pages in front of her, letting out a quiet groan as her fingers tangled into her hair and tugged at the roots in frustration, but tried not to let her annoyance phase her as she warily stood up and grabbed the books, walking back over to the Restricted Section to swap them out with a few new titles. 

She put the books back in their rightful spots before her eyes scanned the abundant list of new options that sat in front of her on the shelves. There were so many books that she felt overwhelmed even trying to figure out where to begin. Her fingers danced along the spines of various titles, trying to find anything that might hold clues into what she was looking for. Slowly, she reached out and grabbed a book off the shelf, holding it to her chest as she scanned for more options. 

The sound of footsteps broke her out of her thoughts.

She whipped around and saw Riddle make his way down the aisle, his crisp white sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his long pale fingers stretched across the spines of the three books he carried in his grasp. 

“What are you doing here?” she asked, trying to keep her voice as cold as possible when he stopped in front of her.

“As I’m the only Prefect here, I believe I should be asking you that question,” he replied. 

“Dumbledore gave me a pass,” she said, a scowl on her lips. 

His eyes skirted towards the book she held in her grasp. “To study Dark Magic?”

She shrugged. “Know thy enemy...”

“...and know yourself,” he said, finishing the quote with a slight smirk on his lips. She rolled her eyes before turning back around, returning to her original goal of finding another book to grab. Tom continued, “Care to tell me why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, I’ve only been busy.”

“How many times must I remind you that you’re a terrible liar?”

Her breath caught in her throat for a moment, but she tried to not show it. Instead, she just focused on the shelf before her. One particular title caught her attention and she looked up at the book, standing on her tip-toes as she tried to grab it off the top shelf. 

Before her fingers could latch onto it, Tom’s arm reached past her, grabbing the book with ease. She spun around, looking up into his eyes as his hand remained placed on the top shelf, his body looming over hers. Slowly, he pulled the book out, keeping his dark eyes locked on hers, before he handed it to her and said, “We need to talk.”

When she turned around and began to walk away, he had to try and hide his irritation. She was acting as though he didn’t exist-- that’s how she had been ever since Lestrange’s birthday and he was fed up with it. He took in a deep breath, trying to steady himself before he briskly followed after her. “You’re just going to ignore me, then?”

She shot him an annoyed glare as she sat down at her table, opening up her book and starting to read. “I have work to do.”

He fought the urge to roll his eyes as he pulled out the chair across from her and sat down, too. When she raised her eyebrow at him he merely shrugged and opened one of his own books. “So do I.”

There was a tense silence between them as they both began to read their books, though Avalon was glaringly aware of the way his eyes would float up and watch her every so often. She didn’t dare meet his gaze, though. She couldn’t. 

It unsettled her to look at the boy while sitting across from him, reading about ways she could kill him. 

Still, she tried not to think about it as her eyes scanned page after page after page. Nothing grabbed her attention and she was beginning to lose the last shred of hope that she had, when suddenly, one sentence stuck out to her.

_ ‘Fiendfyre, when controlled properly, will destroy anything and everything in its path, making it the ultimate tool of destruction.’ _

She felt her breath hitch in her throat as she reread the line over and over. 

_ Good _ , she thought to herself.  _ This is good.  _

Her eyes scanned the rest of the page as she read more about the spell, trying to keep her face stoic as she took notes in her mind of the effects, casting, and power of the magic. She couldn’t know for sure, but it seemed as though this was her best lead yet. 

By all accounts, she should have been thrilled. But, as she stared at the page, trying not to take notice of the boy sitting across the table from her, she couldn’t shake the feeling of nausea that rose into her stomach. 

His voice demanded her attention. “You can’t ignore me forever.”

“Who said I’m ignoring you?” she said nonchalantly, not meeting his eyes.

“You won’t speak to me.”

“I’m speaking right now, aren’t I?” He took in a deep breath, his patience wearing thin. Still, he tried his hardest to keep his voice at a quiet whisper to not disturb the few people that were still in the library. Avalon continued, “You merely don’t like what I’m saying.”

“I just need to know-”

“Know what?” she asked, cutting him off as she finally met his gaze. Her eyes were filled with a burning intensity, one that he hadn’t seen in quite some time. “What could you possibly need from me, Riddle? Are you expecting a ‘thank you?’ Or for me to bow down and worship you the way the rest of the school does, all because you did what anyone should have done?”

Her words were equal parts infuriating and relieving: infuriating because he realized that she thought he had saved her in hopes of getting something in return, yet relieving because even if she was angry, at least she was showing him something other than emptiness. 

“I-”

“-have bruised my skin just as Xavier has. So don’t act as though he is the only one who has hurt me. You two may be more similar than you think,” she said. He looked taken aback by her words, but she didn’t let it phase her. They both opened their mouths to speak, when a third voice caught their attention.

“Fancy seeing you two here,” Orion said as he walked over, a smile on his lips. 

Tom watched as the hatred in Avalon’s eyes quickly subsided and she grinned at the blond, pretending as though the air wasn’t still filled with the tension of her and Tom’s lingering conversation. “How’s studying going?”

Orion pulled out a seat next to Avalon and shrugged as he sat down. “Alright. I don’t think I’ll be here much later. How about yourselves?”

“Perhaps another hour or so,” Avalon answered.

Orion looked between the two of them, his next words drawn out when he said, “I didn’t expect to see the two of you studying together, if I’m being honest.”

“I didn’t either,” she said, a plastic smile on her lips when she turned toward Tom, who just shook his head. Orion seemed to pick up on the charged atmosphere and met Avalon’s eyes, raising his eyebrow ever-so-slightly as if to silently ask ‘are you okay?’ She smiled at him and put a hand atop his, squeezing it gently and nodding, which eased his own expression. 

He nodded, standing back up and quietly clapping his hands together. “Well, I should get back to my table. Good luck with your studying,” he said as he waved and walked off once more.

When Avery left, silence took his place. Neither Tom nor Avalon spoke again in his absence, both of them instead returning their attention to the books placed before them. Tom, however, could barely find the focus within him to read anything at all.

He couldn’t thwart the feeling he got when she compared him to Lestrange. It was, quite frankly, offensive to be compared to someone as low as that bastard. Tom was stronger, smarter, more ambitious, and more calculated… he felt as though his moves were justified, thought-out… Xavier only acted on impulse. His actions were pointless and sloppy. Tom was nothing like him, he thought. And for her to even insinuate a semblance between the two of them angered him. 

Though, there was more than just anger there. He felt the slightest pang of guilt, wondering how he could have hurt her enough to cause her to make that comparison. 

For the next hour, neither of them spoke as they each read and reflected on their earlier confrontation. Most of the students had left the library for the night, leaving the two of them alone in the expansive sea of books. Avalon had even noticed Orion walk out through the exit a little bit earlier, though he hadn’t been carrying any of his things, so she wondered if he was planning on coming back. 

The moonlight shone through the windows, illuminating the two of them in a soft night glow amidst the flickering flames of the giant floating chandelier above. 

Avalon’s excessive tapping against the table was driving Tom mad, though he chose to try and ignore it, not in the mood to irritate her further by asking her to stop. She didn’t look the slightest bit tired, he thought to himself, as she read page after page of the book before her. It was as though she were so absorbed in her reading that she had lost track of time, itself. 

She absentmindedly chewed on her bottom lip as she worked, and he watched her curiously as she kept trying to tuck a shorter piece of her hair behind her ear, only to let out a frustrated huff every time it slipped back out and in front of her eyes. 

The sound of approaching footsteps made them both look up in time to see Orion walking towards them, two cups in his hands as he carefully strode over, doing his best to not spill anything. “I stopped by the kitchen to get myself some snacks and thought perhaps you two could use some coffee for the long night ahead,” he said as he set the cups down next to them. 

“You’re too sweet,” Avalon said, her eyes beaming. 

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry if they’re a bit cold. I ran into Adonis while I was there and we chatted for a bit. Hopefully, it’s still drinkable.”

“Thank you,” she smiled. 

He shrugged. “Well, I’m done for the night. I’ll see the two of you later. Try to get some rest, though, will you?”

“We’ll do our best,” she said, waving to him as he left to grab his things and retire for the night.

Tom watched as Avery once again left the two of them alone. His fingers absentmindedly reached out and grabbed the cup of coffee closest to him, taking a sip while he read the book in front of him. 

As soon as the drink hit his tongue, his face contorted into a look of disgust. Avalon raised an eyebrow at him in confusion and watched as he reluctantly swallowed the coffee before looking into the cup and groaning, setting it back down before peering into the other cup. 

She noticed he had taken a sip of the lighter colored drink, which Orion had undoubtedly filled to the brim with cream and sugar for her. “I don’t know how you drink that,” he grumbled, pushing the drink towards her as he sighed and looked at the dark coffee in the other cup.

“I could say the same for you,” she said, rolling her eyes before she went back to her studying. Her fingers once more began to tap the top of the table, the sound drilling into Tom’s brain. 

“Will you stop that? It’s infuriating,” he blurted out, his own harsh outburst shocking even himself.

A frown found its way onto her lips. “What is your problem?”

“You are my problem,” he hissed, the words leaving his mouth before he could even register what he was saying. “You’re easily the most aggravating person I have ever met. Everything about you is maddening. From your bloody moral superiority complex, to your inability to stay quiet, to your disgusting coffee, to your crass tongue and complete lack of decorum, to the way you up and decide to ignore me with no warning for almost two weeks.” He couldn’t stop himself as everything spilled out. “It’s all maddening.”

She scowled. “If you find me so infuriating, why did you come here?”

“To try and get you to bloody talk to me,” he frowned. “I don’t even have work to do, I finished it all last week,” he admitted, not sure why he couldn’t stop his rambling. His teeth clenched atop his own tongue, trying to end his rant, but the words kept flowing out involuntarily. “I had to talk to you. I’ve barely gotten any sleep since that damn night. Not because of  _ him _ , but because I can’t shake the feeling that I’m to blame for what happened to you.”

He had to slap a hand over his own mouth, trying to shut himself up. His eyes suddenly flashed with a look of realization as he looked at the cup of creamed coffee he had drunk. Avalon followed his gaze, her eyes widening when she realized what was happening. 

“What do you mean you’re to blame?” she pressed as he hastily grabbed his things and began to get up. 

Unable to hold his tongue under the effect of Veritaserum, he blurted out, “I told him to pursue you for information but I never thought the bastard would do anything to hurt you.” As the words left his tongue, he let out a shaky breath and tried to make a bee-line for the exit, but she blocked his path, looking up into his panicked gaze.

“What information do you want out of me?”

She could see him trying to battle the urge to speak, but the words flowed out regardless. “Everything.” He pushed her out of his way and kept trying to quickly leave, but she ran to meet his stride. His eyes flashed with annoyance when he saw her following him and he quickly stated, “ _ Silencio _ ,” while pointing his wand at himself.

“Why?” she asked as she pointed her wand at him and cast the counter-charm to break his silence.

His eyes shot daggers at her as he finally made it to the exit, but he couldn’t ignore her question. “Because you’re the one puzzle I can’t seem to figure out and no matter how hard I try, I can’t let it go. And I don’t understand it because I’ve never felt this way about anyone or anything. You’re infuriating and you get under my skin like nobody else, but perhaps the most infuriating thing about you is how despite everything you do, the thought of you ignoring me still bothers me, Hendrix,” he said, the words coming out in a flurry of rushed confessions. His face filled with horror as he once again began to bite down on his tongue, trying desperately to silence himself as he pushed the door open and walked out, but she made sure to follow him as he blurted out, “You’ve managed to become a permanent resident in my mind.”

The admission caught her off guard and she paused a moment, her footsteps coming to a halt. In her hesitation, he pointed his wand at her and disarmed her before casting a quick stunning spell on her, temporarily blurring her sight and rendering her movements useless. 

By the time her vision cleared and her limbs were once again able to move, he was gone. But his words lingered in the air as she stood there, staring at the spot he had once stood. Her thoughts were racing faster than ever before, but all she could do was replay his last words over and over in her head.

_ ‘You’ve managed to become a permanent resident in my mind.’ _

She was almost surprised that he hadn’t just killed her right then and there for hearing all of the things that he had said-- but, what surprised her more was that in the moment, she hadn’t feared for her safety at all.

She wasn’t afraid around him anymore. 

And it made no sense, and she grew irritated at herself for letting her guard down, but it was the truth. In a strange sense, she didn’t think he would hurt her.

Not anymore, at least…

She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. 

No.

_ Tom Riddle was dangerous _ , she had to remind herself.  _ Tom Riddle still  _ **_is_ ** _ dangerous. _

But, it didn’t feel that way, and that was what worried her more than anything else. 

She replayed every word he had said over and over and over in her head until they felt as though they were ingrained into her thoughts, and yet still she continued. She wondered if she should have taken advantage of his honesty and pressed him further, but she knew that asking him anything too obvious would have blown her cover, and surely, that couldn’t have ended well.

Yet, a nagging voice in the back of her head kept telling her that that wasn’t the only reason she hadn’t tried to get more information out of him. 

A part of her was relieved that she hadn’t asked him about his Horcruxes. Not because she was scared about what the outcome would have been, or how he would have reacted, but because the moment she found out what they were, she’d have no choice but to destroy them and kill him.

And as much as she wanted to deny it, the thought of killing him now scared her like no other.


	32. Chapter 32

He had to get back to the Slytherin dormitories.

His heart was racing as he bolted through the empty hallways, trying to reach the dungeons as quickly as he could. 

_ Fuck. _

_ Fuck. _

**_Fuck_ ** _. _

He was going to kill Avery. 

He made it to the entrance of the Slytherin common room quicker than he thought humanly possible, hurriedly stating the password and impatiently tapping his foot as he waited for the entrance to appear. As soon as it did, he strode in, his eyes immediately landing on the only two people in the room, Nott and Avery, sitting together on the couch chatting and laughing. 

The two looked over at him and smiled, but a look of confusion overtook them as he stormed over and grabbed the bewildered blond by the collar of his shirt, pulling him up and throwing him up against the wall, pointing his wand at his neck.

“What the hell?” Nott exclaimed as he got up and began to approach the two of them.

“Leave, Nott,” Tom snarled.

Axel began to protest, “No, I-”

“I said  _ leave! _ ”

He knew better than to argue with Riddle. So, with one last worried look towards his roommate, Axel reluctantly grabbed his things and ran off to their room. 

“What is your deal?” Avery asked, thrashing against Tom’s hold. 

Tom was able to ignore his question. He knew the effects of the small bit of Veritaserum had worn off. “Did you put anything in the coffee?”

“Cream and sugar!” Avery blurted out, his bewildered eyes filled with puzzlement. 

Tom rolled his eyes, pushing the wand deeper into the boy’s neck. “Aside from that.”

“No, I swear,” the blond insisted. Tom knew that Avery was telling the truth-- the boy wasn’t a good enough liar to pull this off. And, the more Tom thought about it, Orion was too close to Hendrix to spike her drink. 

“You said you saw Rosier in the kitchen?”

“I spoke with him briefly but left him to go get sweets from the elves.”

“Did you take the drinks with you when you spoke to the elves?”

“What-”

“Did you take the drinks?”

“No!” he exclaimed. “I left them on the table.” Tom let go of Avery’s collar and put his wand down, but the anger in his eyes burned even brighter than before as he began making his way to Rosier and Lestrange’s room. “Hey!” Avery called out, momentarily halting Tom’s movement. “What’s going on? Is Avalon alright?”

“She’s fine,” Tom said, leaving the blond without another word. When he reached the dorm he desired, he threw open the door and revealed the two boys sitting on their desk chairs, their conversation coming to an end when they saw him enter. Without a moment of hesitation, he disarmed the both of them, catching their flying wands in his left hand before pointing his own at Rosier.

“You have ten seconds to explain yourself,” Tom snarled. 

“She’s hiding something,” Xavier interjected. 

“I wasn’t speaking to you,” Tom spat, glaring at Lestrange while keeping his wand aimed at his roommate. 

“Listen to what he has to say,” Rosier pleaded. 

“It was the only way she would quit lying!” Xavier shouted, though his face contorted with pure confusion a moment later. “I mean, did it not work?”

Tom felt the blood in his veins boiling as he spat out his next words. “No, you  _ morons _ . Because your entire plan depended on  _ Avery _ delivering the right cups and the idiot mixed them up.”

He watched as twin looks of horror washed over their faces. Rosier stuttered out, “Y-you didn’t-”

“I did,” Tom said through gritted teeth. 

Rosier’s eyes widened so much that he thought they might burst out of his head and Lestrange slapped a hand over his own mouth, both of them suddenly rightfully fearing for their lives. Rosier tried to speak once more. “That was never meant for you-”

“I don’t care what you meant. You imbeciles should be grateful I didn’t reveal anything too damaging to her.”

“She left us no choice,” Lestrange said. “She’s lying to us all. We only wanted to get her to confess it to you so you’d understand-”

“I already warned you about meddling with her anymore, did I not?” he hissed, lowering his wand away from Rosier and advancing towards Xavier. 

“You don’t get it!” Lestrange exclaimed. “She’s after something!”

Tom only said one word. “Explain.”

“That night after the Hogsmeade attack,” Lestrange started. “She used Legilimency to go into my mind.”

“And see what?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I was under the effects of the pain medications and everything was hazy. I didn’t even remember she did it until…” His words trailed off as a shudder ran down his spine when he recalled the night of his abuse at the hands of Riddle, his fingers trembling nervously.

Tom paused a moment, fiddling with the ring on his finger while trying to make sense of what the boy had just confessed. Everything he learned about Hendrix only confused him more and more. Every answer led to more questions, and every revelation led to more secrets. 

The two boys stared at him with so much fear in their eyes that he found the sight pathetic. His words came out so cold that both boys shuddered at the sound. “Don’t ever meddle in my business again.”

He flicked his wand towards the duo and watched as the ties around their necks began to wrap tightly around their throats. Their fingers grappled with the cloth, trying to pry it off their necks, but their struggle only forced the fabric to suffocate them more, restricting their airways until their breathing came out in choked gasps. 

Their bodies thrashed violently as they tried to rip their ties off, but they only inched closer and closer to blacking out. Without another word, Tom turned around and left their dorm, the ties loosening as the door slammed shut behind him, dropping the two gasping boys to their knees as they shared a look of disbelief. 

\-----

The next morning, Avalon stumbled towards the Great Hall as she tiredly rubbed her eyes, exhaustion swamping her entire body. She hadn’t been able to fall asleep at all-- Riddle’s words kept replaying over and over in her mind, keeping her up with a million different thoughts and worries. 

She couldn’t shake the unease that overtook her when she thought about his honest vulnerability. For once, she had seen a glimpse of his unfiltered, raw self. No lies, no walls, no secrets: just him. 

And he had been so… human. 

His words belonged to a person who was still capable of feeling. All this time, she had viewed him as an empty shell of a person: devoid of emotions, devoid of humanity, devoid of all things that made him whole.

But, the more she got to know him, the more she realized that wasn’t the case.

He still had slivers of his humanity intact, and that scared her. It was a lot easier for her to justify his death when she viewed him as empty. If the end of a shallow life would bring forth the salvation of so many others, she saw no issue. When she thought of him and the Dark Lord as one in the same, the lines blurred between right and wrong, and she could see-- clear as day-- that his death was the right thing to do. But now, it just felt like murder. 

‘ _ I can’t shake the feeling that I’m to blame for what happened to you.’ _

The admission that he had a part in Xavier’s pursuit of her did not shock her, but it did come as a surprise. What did shock her, however, was his acknowledgement of his own guilt. Tom Riddle taking blame for anything was… unheard of.

“Ava!”

She looked up and saw Orion briskly making his way over towards her, an uncharacteristically concerned look on his face. “Good morni-”

“Are you alright?”

She tilted her head, puzzled. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

The blond let out a sigh of relief as he gently led her to the end of the Slytherin table, sitting down with her as he glanced around the room nervously. “I don’t know… I just…” He took in a deep breath and shrugged. “Riddle came storming into the common room last night asking about the coffee I gave you and he seemed quite furious. I thought for a moment it had been somehow poisoned and I was so worr-”

“No, no,” she said, cutting him off. “But it did have Veritaserum in it, I believe.”

Orion’s eyes widened as he began to stutter out an apology. “Ava, I swear I didn’t-”

“I didn’t think you did,” she assured. 

He stared at the breakfast foods before him, not touching anything. “Riddle seemed to be quite angry when I told him I left the drinks unattended around Rosier…” his eyes narrowed as a frown overtook his lips. “If that bastard is helping Lestrange-”

“I think the two of them are honestly out to get me after all that has happened,” she sighed. 

Avery paused for a moment, finally picking up a croissant and picking off the flakey crumbs, putting them into his mouth as he thought. “Did you drink it? The serum, I mean?” He picked up a cup and watched as it filled with tea before taking a sip.

“No, Riddle did.”

Orion nearly choked on his tea, coughing as the drink went down the wrong pipe. When he finally got the wind back in him, he gasped, “He what?!”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice pensive. 

“Bloody hell… Now I get why he was so mad. Boy is a closed book, I’m sure he hated that.”

“He wasn’t thrilled, that’s for sure,” she said. “He sort of… yelled at me at the start… then called me annoying and irritating, which is par for the course, I suppose. But then,” she paused, shaking her head. “It was like something shifted… and he began blurting out things about how he felt and I just… I don’t know.”

Orion’s brows furrowed in confusion. “How he felt? About what, exactly?”

She hesitated as she stuttered out her next words, feeling uncertain as she said, “About me, in a sense.”

“And what did he say?”

“That he felt guilty for what happened to me, and that he…” she felt the slightest bit of a blush creep onto her cheeks as she said, “... thinks about me day and night?”

Orion tried to bite back the smile that was creeping onto his lips as he shook his head. “I’ll be damned. Riddle is finally caring about someone other than himself.”

She swatted his arm, frowning. “I hardly think it’s like that.”

“I mean, it’s not so far fetched,” he shrugged. “During the two weeks when you were avoiding him, he asked me nearly every day if I had spoken to you. If I didn’t know any better, I’d almost say he was worried.” She didn’t want to hear any of that, but Avery kept speaking. “It does make sense, doesn’t it? You come out of nowhere and seem to be the only person bold enough to challenge him. I’d never met someone on par with him on ability and wits, until you, of course.” 

The sight of a girl in Slytherin robes running past them with tears running down her cheeks as she carried a discarded bouquet of flowers drew their attention away from their conversation. They followed the girl’s path, noticing Riddle standing at the entrance of the Great Hall, a look of annoyance on his scowling lips as he watched the girl bolt away from him. 

Avery sighed. “Did another girl ask Riddle to the Yule Ball?”

“Looks like it.”

“Poor things… I reckon that’s the sixth invite he’s turned down. I don’t know why they keep trying.”

She watched as Riddle began to make his way over towards the Slytherin table. In an effort to speak to him, she began to rise out of her seat, but their eyes caught for a moment and he gave her a cold look as if warning her not to approach him, and she found herself sinking back down. He walked past the two of them without acknowledging their presence, instead striding over towards Demitri, Axel, and Rosalie and taking a seat with them. 

“Speaking of the Yule Ball,” Avery said, grabbing her attention once more. “Are you still planning on going?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head.

His brows furrowed into a frown. “What? Nonsense, you have to go. It’s your first Ball.”

“And it’s your last, yet you’re not going, either,” she pointed out, earning a roll of his eyes.

“I’ve been to plenty, I’m not missing much. You are, though. Don’t let a rotten bastard spoil your fun.”

“I just don’t want to go-”

“What if we go together?”

She raised her eyebrows at him. “What happened to not going?”

“I’ll go if you go,” he said, shrugging. “Come on. Go with me.”

“What about Clara?”

A sheepish smile found its way onto his lips. “Truth be told, she’s been pestering me to ask you for days now. Partly because she wants me there, partly because she wants you there. I think more because she wants you there, honestly,” he laughed. 

“I don’t know…” she said. 

“It’ll be fun, I promise!”

“I don’t even have a dress,” she protested. 

“Then we’ll go to Hogsmeade this weekend and find one!” She opened her mouth to object when he added, “My treat. You can’t reject a gift, Ava, it’s rude.” He scrambled out of his seat and onto his feet, standing before her as he pointed his wand at the air and a single yellow flower appeared before him, falling down before he grabbed it in the air and extended it towards her. She smiled when she noticed the little butterfly on its petals. It flapped its wings and began to flutter around her head as he said, “Avalon Hendrix, will you go to the Yule Ball with me?”

A couple of students around them watched them curiously, and Avalon’s eyes darted towards the Hufflepuff table where she saw Clara watching them with a bright grin on her face. The bubbly girl gave her two thumbs up and Avalon lightly laughed to herself as she took the flower from Orion and nodded. “I’d be honored.” A wide smile found its way onto Avery’s lips as he took his seat beside her again, a sparkle in his eyes as he grabbed a scone off the table and picked off a piece, popping it into his mouth. She gently nudged his shoulder. “You have to promise me one thing, though.”

“And that is?”

“That you’ll leave me at some point in the night and go spend time with your girl.”

He laughed, nodding. “I promise to ditch you promptly, swiftly, and without hesitation.”

“Wonderful,” she chuckled, grabbing a lemon-blueberry scone off the table and taking a bite. 

\-----

The rest of the week went by with little to no excitement. Most of Avalon’s time was spent studying with Zelda for their upcoming end-of-term exams in the overcrowded library. The hallways were constantly alive with talk of schoolwork and the Yule Ball. It was rare to walk anywhere without seeing a girl holding a bouquet of flowers and a grinning boy being patted on the back by his friends not too far away. 

She tried to speak to Riddle a few times after class, though he appeared to be avoiding her after the event with the Veritaserum. They didn’t say a word to each other for the days that followed. 

_ Funny _ , she thought to herself.  _ The boy yells at me for ignoring him then proceeds to do just the same.  _

When Saturday finally came around, Avalon had to get up bright and early to prepare for her outing with Orion. To say she wasn’t excited would be a lie. The thought of spending a day with one of her best friends, far away from the chaos and stress that clouded her in the castle made her heart flutter with ease. 

She slipped on a coat and boots, bundling her neck with a thick wool scarf before tip-toeing out of the room, making sure not to wake Zelda on her way out. Her roommate had been spending every night studying until the break of dawn, so she tried to be as quiet as possible for her sake. 

The common room was already filled with a slew of studying Ravenclaws, all of them exchanging notes and comparing answers on their assignments as they prepped for their exams. The entrance was propped open, trying to spare the late-night studiers from the hassle of answering a riddle to gain access after a night of cramming their tired brains with information. 

A few of them waved good morning to Avalon as she made her way out and down the Tower, a skip in her step as she bounced down the stairs. When she got to the base of the Tower, Orion was already standing there, waiting for her with a smile on his lips the moment his eyes landed on her. “Good morning!” he called out, waving excitedly. 

“Good morning,” she grinned, giving him a quick hug when she reached him. 

“Ready to go?” 

“Absolutely.”

The two of them began making their way towards Hogsmeade, laughing and chatting the entire trip. Blankets of fresh white snow covered the paths like icing, dazzling flakes of frosty ice falling from the clouds as they walked through the first sign of the oncoming winter. 

Avery looked over at Avalon and laughed when he caught sight of her furiously rubbing her red nose, trying to warm herself up. He gently pulled her scarf up over her nose as they walked, stuffing his own hands into his coat pockets shortly after. 

The walk to the village was short, but by the time they arrived, they both were thrilled to enter the warmth of a store. The town square was completely rebuilt, showing no signs of the attack from the last time they had visited. All had been repaired, leaving the small storefronts looking pristine and ready for the holidays, Christmas trees and lights sitting perched in each window display.

“Mind if we make a quick pit stop?” he asked.

“Not at all,” she replied, following him as he led them to a small jewelry shop beside Honeydukes. 

The warmth of the store was relieving as they entered and were greeted with countless displays of silver and golden pieces, each one glimmering endlessly under the display lights. Orion walked up to the counter and smiled at the owner. “Good morning.”

“Morning, Mr. Avery,” the middle-aged man smiled. “How may I help you today?”

“Do you remember the ring I looked at last time I stopped by?”

The man nodded, bending down and digging through a nearby display before he pulled out a delicate golden ring with a small raindrop-shaped opal embedded into it. “This one?”

“Yes, lovely!” Orion grinned. “I’d like to purchase it, please.”

“Of course, I’ll get it boxed up for you,” the man said, retreating to the back of the store. 

Avalon looked at Orion with wide-eyes and he just rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s a promise ring for Clara. I’ve wanted to buy it for quite some time now…”

“That’s adorable,” she said, smiling. “The two of you are honestly the most perfect match I have ever seen.”

“I think so, too,” he said, adoration in his eyes as he thought of his beloved. 

The store owner came back with the ring neatly placed into a small silver box and put it into a tiny carrying bag. Orion reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a few golden galleons and dropping them into the man’s hand. “Thank you, sir.”

“Thank  _ you _ ,” the man said back. “You two have a lovely rest of your day.”

“You as well,” Orion waved as they headed back out into the village. 

The snow was falling at a quicker pace when they went outside and Avalon paused to look up at the sky. She smiled to herself as a few stray snowflakes fell atop her cheeks, melting upon contact with her warm skin. 

Then, out of nowhere, she felt a clump of snow collide with her coat. 

Turning her attention towards a laughing Orion, she rolled her eyes and ducked just an instant before he launched another snowball directly at her face, only narrowly missing her as he doubled over once more in laughter.

Taking his lapse of attention as an opportunity, she bent down and quickly patted out a snowball, pelting it forcefully towards him and cackling as it struck him square in the chest. His eyes widened and the two of them began a war of throwing the small clumps of snow at each other for the next few minutes, until their stomachs hurt from how much they were laughing. 

“I surrender!” he called out, raising his hands up over his head as she was about to throw another snowball at him. “You win!”

She dropped the ball of snow and walked over, extending a hand. “Truce?”

He chuckled as he shook her gloved hand. “Let’s go buy your dress. I’m freezing.”

Avalon nodded and began walking towards Gladrags, seeing a slew of girls lined up outside the small clothing shop, waiting for their turns to go inside and try on dresses from the tiny shop’s selection, but Orion took her hand and began dragging her in the opposite direction.

A look of confusion struck her face when she said, “Gladrags is that way.”

“We’re not going there,” he said, leading her towards a much larger shop nestled far away from the other stores in between a bookstore and the postal shop. An array of glimmering dresses lined the display window, yet she saw no students inside. 

“Orion,” she started. “This looks awfully expensive…”

He raised an eyebrow. “Does it? Truthfully, I’ve never glanced at the prices. It is my mother’s favorite place to shop in the village, though.”

“It’s-”

“-a small price to pay for avoiding the lines at Gladrags,” he chuckled. “Plus, I said it’s my treat. Don’t worry about it.” He opened the door to the store, motioning for her to go in. “After you.”

A gust of warm air greeted her rosy cheeks when they stepped inside, letting out a relieved sigh at the escape from the chilling cold outside. 

“Ah, Mr. Avery! Lovely to see you again,” an elderly woman with white hair neatly styled into a french twist and an elegant black dress laid atop her petite figure said as she strode out from behind the register and greeted the two of them. 

“Nice to see you as well, Mrs. Bitterwood,” he smiled. “I was hoping to get your assistance today with finding a formal dress for my good friend, Avalon.”

The woman smiled and nodded. “Oh, of course.” She looked Avalon up and down, placing a finger on her chin as she circled around her. “I have several styles that I think you’ll love. I’ll get them ready inside a dressing room for you.” She began to walk off when she called out. “Could I offer the two of you anything to drink while you shop? I just received a fine new selection of imports from France this morning.”

“Two glasses would be lovely,” Orion said. 

“Right away,” she said as she flicked her wand in the air, a bottle of champagne and two glass flutes floating up from behind the counter and filling with the bubbling drink moments before they slowly floated over towards Orion and Avalon. 

Avalon breathlessly took the cup from the air, staring wordlessly at Orion as he mindlessly sipped on his drink. She lightly laughed to herself. 

“What?” he asked.

“I sometimes forget that you’re rich,” she chuckled.

He rolled his eyes, taking another sip of his drink. “I do my best to remind people that there are more interesting things about me than what is inside my family’s vault.”

“There are? I hadn’t noticed,” she joked, earning a light slap across her shoulder from the smiling boy. 

“Your dressing room is ready whenever you are, darling,” the woman called out from the back of the store, motioning towards a small room with a draped silk curtain covering it up. 

“Well, go on,” Orion said, shoo-ing her towards the room. 

“I’m going, I’m going,” she grumbled as she got up and went into the room. Her eyes immediately landed on the enormous rack of gowns that the store owner had laid out for her. Dozens of colorful dresses of satin, lace, and tulle all gleaming under the light of the dazzling chandelier overhead. With a deep breath, she pulled the first dress off of its hanger and began putting it on. 

A few minutes passed and she hadn’t exited the dressing room yet. Avery kept sipping from his glass, refilling the flute every time it ran empty before he called out, “What’s the hold-up?”

From inside the room she grumbled, “I look like a bloody cupcake.”

He tried to hide the laughter in his voice when he said, “I’m sure it’s not that bad. Let me see.”

Reluctantly, she opened the curtain and walked out, a frown on her face as Orion burst into laughter, champagne nearly coming out his nose as he slapped his hand over his mouth. “I told you!” she whined, looking at herself in the mirror.

The light blue dress was not ugly, per se. The corseted top was rather flattering on her, but the horror began at the waist-- the bottom half flowed out into a huge, puffy princess skirt that must've been 5 feet in diameter, gaudy lilac flowers speckling the tulle and lining the waist to complete the look.

She stared at her reflection with a distasteful scowl on her face thinking that perhaps it would have looked nicer on somebody less...like her.

Mrs. Bitterwood made her way over watching as Avalon spun around in the mirror and Orion did his best to hold back his laughter. “Is the dress not to your liking?” For a brief moment, Avalon noticed the woman’s gaze flicker onto the scars that littered her arms, but she quickly averted her stare and politely returned to Avalon’s eyes. 

She tried to be as polite as she could when she offered a smile and said, “I think perhaps something less…” her eyes darted to Avery for help, but he just looked up at the ceiling, purposely avoiding her gaze. “... extravagant… may be a more suitable choice for me.”

The elderly woman nodded before going into the dressing room and rummaging through the rack, pulling out a plum gown and shoving it towards Avalon. “Try this one.”

With a tight-lipped smile, Avalon nodded as she turned back around and dove into the room once more, tearing the dress off and trying on the next. Orion poured himself another glass of champagne while he waited, chatting with the store owner until Avalon once more pulled back the curtain and came out in the second gown. 

Orion’s face nearly went red and he did his best to contain his amusement as she begrudgingly waddled out of the dressing room, the mermaid gown wrapped so tightly around her legs that she could barely walk without stumbling down. 

“Oh my,” Mrs. Bitterwood sighed as Avalon nearly tripped over her own feet, a quiet string of profanities slipping out of her lips as she tried to lift up the bottom of the dress and walk, with no real success. 

“You look ravishing,” Avery chuckled. “Peak of elegance.”

“Shut it,” she groaned, turning back around and shuffling back into the dressing room.

“Try the one I left hanging on the wall!” Mrs. Bitterwood called out. 

From inside the room, Avalon looked at the white dress hanging on the wall and sighed, pulling it off its hanger before slipping it on. To be fair, it was visually the best one so far, but as she walked out of the room she groaned, “I feel like a bride.”

Orion, slowly starting to become tipsy from the numerous glasses of champagne he had already downed, looked at the satin gown and gasped. “I didn’t realize you were to be wed.” She began to roll her eyes and turn back around when he added, “I’m sure Tom will be heartbroken.” 

She quickly grabbed a pillow off a nearby arm-chair and launched it at him, smacking him square in the face and earning a horrified look from the elderly shop owner as well as hearty laughter from him.

“Can I at least be a bridesmaid?” he asked.

From behind the curtain she called out, “You’ll be lucky if you’re invited!”

Over an hour passed filled with one rejected dress after another. Orion merely sat in his armchair, laughing more and more each time she stepped out of the dressing room, her scowl growing deeper set with each passing minute. 

She tried on every single dress that Mrs. Bitterwood had lined in the dressing room, each one wrong for one reason or another. As the minutes dragged on, Avalon began to regret agreeing to go to the Ball more and more. “I give up!” she groaned from inside the dressing room, her fingers grappling with the zipper on the final dress she had tried on.

The corner of the curtain was pulled back a tiny bit and Bitterwood slipped in one last dress. “Darling, try this one on. I just received it this morning.”

“I-”

“Just this last one.”

Reluctantly, she took the gown in and tried it on. 

When she stepped out of the dressing room, Mrs. Bitterwood and Orion were deep in conversation, but their words came to an immediate halt the moment their eyes fell on her. 

A satisfied smile found its way onto the shop owner's lips and Orion just quietly breathed out, “Merlin, Ava. You look beautiful.”

She looked in the mirror and smiled at her reflection. The dress was the color of freshly spilled blood, the corseted top wrapped in pleats of luxurious tulle pulled taught to accentuate the curves of her waist. Two delicate sleeves looped around her upper-arms, leaving her collarbones and shoulders exposed, yet as she turned around, she let out a sigh of relief when she saw the way her hair and the dress worked together to perfectly cover the largest scar on her back.

It was a beautiful dress, there was no denying it.

“We’ll take this one,” Orion said before she could even bother to object. 

“Of course,” the woman smiled. “A lovely choice. Shall I put it on your father’s tab?” Orion nodded and the woman smiled, going to the register and ringing up the purchase. 

He slowly stood up and made his way over to her. “You really do look wonderful, you know.”

“Thank you,” she smiled. “For everything… for coming, for the dress, for-”

“It’s nothing,” he said. “Thank  _ you _ for accompanying me to the Ball.”

She grinned, returning her attention to her reflection.

It had been forever since she had seen herself looking like this: dolled up, in a dress… 

For what seemed like ages now, luxuries like this had become a thing of the past, the war taking all of her time, efforts, and energy. She almost didn’t recognize the girl in the mirror.

“You’ll make a lot of boys regret not asking you before I did,” he chuckled.

“Just wait till they see my dancing,” she laughed. “The regret will fade quite quickly.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Do you not know how to waltz?”

“I suppose Durmstrang skipped that lesson,” she said. While she had learned modern dance in her own year at Hogwarts, she knew that those skills would do her no good in the 1940s.

“It’s easy, I’ll teach you,” he shrugged, extending his hand. 

“Right now?”

“Yeah! Come on,” he laughed as she took his hand. “Just follow my movements,” he instructed as he began to hum out a quiet tune and the two of them moved around the empty store, their laughter echoing through the room every time she accidentally stumbled over his feet. They had to keep taking breaks to catch their breath from laughing so hard, and Mrs. Bitterwood watched the pair with a soft smile on her lips as she stood by the register, allowing them to pass time together without being disrupted. 


	33. Chapter 33

Avalon’s arms reached over her back as she fumbled with the zipper on her gown.

“I just don’t understand why flying with a broomstick couldn’t have been a valid answer. I understand that levitation may be more practical but-”

“Z, I love you. But, if you keep talking about that bloody exam I’m going to lose my mind,” Avalon laughed as her roommate let out a groan. 

After several days of intense exams and hard-core cramming taking up every last second of their lives, exams had finally come to a close and the term quickly wrapped-up, leaving a few days between the end of classes and the start of their winter break. While Avalon had studied for her exams, most of her time was spent researching Fiendfyre, trying to figure out everything she could about the destructive spell. After countless hours of research, she had finally concluded that the magical inferno was her best option for destroying Riddle’s Horcruxes-- but, the task of finding them still remained.

He had been avoiding her ever since their incident with the Veritaserum, but she had given up on approaching him for the time being. In all honesty, him ignoring her was a good thing. Her mind had been plagued with doubts and hesitations, and she had hoped that with distance would come clarity: so far, it hadn’t. 

The rest of the castle had a newfound life beating through its revived heart. The students were all alight with joy as the weight of final exams eased off their burdened shoulders and, in their wake, came the excitement of the Yule Ball. 

“All I’m saying is that Merrythought was wrong about that question,” Zelda grumbled, still angry at the one problem she had missed on the written portion of their Defense Against the Dark Arts exam.

“And all I’m saying is that exams are over, you did incredible, and you deserve to have a nice night tonight! Let it go, love,” Avalon said, earning an exasperated sigh from her distraught roommate.

“You’re right, you’re right,” Zelda mumbled, making her way over to the mirror as she flattened down her outfit. “How do I look?”

Avalon looked at her with a bright smile on her lips. Zelda was dressed in a dazzling, double-breasted black suit that gleamed like the starry ceiling of the Ravenclaw common room. From the structured shoulders hung a glimmering black cape that elegantly draped down to the small of her waist, the ends charmed to appear as though a million shining crystals were falling off the ends of the fabric with every slight movement she made. 

“Absolutely stunning,” she said. “Jane is going to be the luckiest girl at the Ball.”

“And Avery the luckiest boy,” Zelda grinned. “Need help with your zipper?”

“Yes, please,” she sighed, turning her back to her roommate as she walked up and quickly did up the back of her dress. When Avalon felt the dress finally hold in place, she turned around and looked at herself in the mirror, pulling her lightly curled hair over her back, making sure the scar on her skin was perfectly hidden underneath her dark locks. 

She had kept her makeup light, though her lips were painted the same shade of red as her dress. It felt strange to see herself like that: done up and dressed in an elegant gown. It had been quite some time since she’d been able to attend anything like this. 

She grabbed her wand and suddenly felt a feeling of panic overtake her as she bit her bottom lip. Zelda raised an eyebrow at her. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know where to put my wand,” she said. “The dress has no pockets.”

“What do you need your wand for? We’re going to a dance,” her roommate laughed.

Avalon chewed on the inside of her cheek. She never went anywhere without her wand. The thought alone scared her. She took in a deep breath and muttered, “Orion’s going to kill me,” before she pointed her wand at the dress and watched as the fabric tore from her thigh down, creating a long slit in the side. 

Zelda’s jaw hung ajar as she slapped her roommate’s arm. “Avalon Marie Hendrix, what in the bloody hell are you doing?!”

Avalon rolled her eyes before she flicked her wand toward a discarded silk scarf she had on her desk, watching as it transformed into a holster. She picked it up and slipped it up her thigh, placing her wand into its hold and covering it up with the tulle of her dress. She breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that if she needed it, at least it was now easily accessible. 

Zelda stared at her with disbelief in her eyes as she put her fingers on her temples, letting out a sigh. “Merlin, sometimes I think you came from another planet.”

The irony of the statement made Avalon laugh. “Are you all ready?”

“Ready,” Zelda nodded. “Let’s go.”

They opened the door and left their dorm, greeted by a handful of lingering Ravenclaws all gathered together in the bustling common room. Most of the students had already left to go to the Ball, but the behind-schedule stragglers were either putting finishing touches on their own looks, or waiting for their dates to emerge from their dorms. 

When Zelda and Avalon strode through the room, it seemed as though the conversations around them temporarily came to a halt. Avalon stared at the ground, making sure not to trip over the lengthy tulle of her dress, unaware of the countless eyes that followed her as she made her way toward the exit. With every step that she took, her right leg would peek out from underneath the high slit of her gown, the fabric dancing along her exposed skin and enveloping her in a wave of crimson fabric. 

The two of them walked down the stairs of the Tower, making their way to the castle corridors slowly to ensure that Avalon wouldn’t trip over her ruby heels. When they finally reached the base of the Tower, she smiled at the sight of Avery leaning against one of the stone archways that lined the hall. 

When his eyes landed on her, his smile lit up the entire hall as he strode over, light laughter escaping his lips as he eyed the slit in her dress. “I see someone decided to redesign their gown.”

She chuckled and shrugged. “I needed a place to stash my wand.”

“Ah, yes, because who wouldn’t need their wand when enjoying a relaxing night at a ball?” He shook his head, but his eyes were still gleaming when he said. “You look beautiful, though, really.”

“You clean up quite nice, yourself,” she said, smiling as she straightened the bowtie on his classic black and white tuxedo. 

He grinned before turning his attention to Zelda. “And Zelda, you look absolutely incredible, as well.”

“Thank you,” her beaming roommate grinned before turning to Avalon. “Love, I’m going to go pick up Jane from her dorm, but I’ll see the both of you at the dance, alright?”

“Don’t keep us waiting too long!” Avalon called out as she watched her friend scurry off toward the Gryffindor dorms. 

Orion watched as Zelda became more and more distant, eventually disappearing when she turned a corner and hurried down another corridor before he grinned at Avalon. “Shall we?” 

“Let’s,” she nodded.

The two of them walked down the stairs of the castle, catching glimpses of other students making their way toward the Great Hall. Girls in extravagant ball gowns and boys in dashing suits scurried through the castle, their laughter echoing off the walls as the carefree joy of the end of the term reverberated through their bones. 

When they reached the Grand Staircase, Avery paused for a moment, extending his arm out to her. “Ready?”

She linked her arm around his and nodded. “Ready.”

Step by step, the two of them began to descend toward the main foyer. Avalon’s gown fluttered around her body as she strode forward, keeping her eyes glued on the stairs to ensure she kept her balance, soft wisps of her hair falling along the sides of her face, framing her features between the delicate dark curls. The flickering flames of the lanterns strewn across the walls lit up her skin, illuminating the flushed points of her cheeks and painting her in a beaming glow that blazed her hazel eyes with an angelic radiance impossible to ignore.

In the foyer, Riddle and Mulciber stood together, surrounded by a circle of four Slytherin girls dressed in glittering gowns with sparkling jewels strewn across their necks. Demitri’s eyes landed on Avalon and Orion before Tom’s did, and he lightly nudged his friend, motioning for him to look toward the stairs. And as Tom turned to see what his friend was pointing out, it seemed as though the conversations around him all faded to nothingness: all he saw was her.

Orion tried to hide the smile on his lips as he leaned toward Avalon’s ear and whispered, “It appears you’ve caught somebody’s attention.”

She gave him a puzzled look before her gaze turned toward the foyer. Immediately, she spotted Tom standing at the bottom of the stairs, surrounded by girls who had eyes only for him, though his own stare was focused solely on her. 

Their eyes met and she felt her breath hitch in her throat, time seeming to come to a standstill as they held each other’s attention for longer than ever before. Her grip on Avery’s arm tightened under the weight of his gaze, and she swore she saw Riddle’s jaw clench. 

He was dressed head-to-toe in all black: from his pointed dress shoes to his three-piece suit to the tie that he had neatly wrapped around his neck-- he was draped only in the color of midnight. It was a beautiful contrast against his moonlight skin, the darkness only accentuating his prominent features as though they were hand-painted by an artist who worshipped the beauty of the night sky.

As they reached the bottom of the stairwell, Avalon watched as Tom slowly dragged his eyes away from her and returned to his conversation with the girls before him. She let out a breath that she hadn’t realized she had been holding, and bit her bottom lip, barely noticing the light laughter that escaped from Orion’s lips as he led them to the entrance of the Great Hall.

The vision of the Ball made her heart skip a beat. 

The Hall had been transformed into a winter wonderland: towering, snow-ridden Christmas trees lining the perimeter of the grand room, snowflakes falling delicately from the ceiling down in a mirage of pristine perfection, and a beautiful dance floor that looked as though it were made of pure ice laid out in the center of the Hall. 

Orion’s soft voice broke her out of her thoughts. “What do you think?”

“It’s beautiful,” she said breathlessly. 

He smiled and began leading them through the crowds of people, gently guiding her toward the back corner of the Hall where he spotted Axel and Rosalie standing together. When the couple spotted Orion and Avalon approaching them, their faces lit up. Rosalie bounced up and down with excitement, letting out a shrill squeal as she extended her arms out and gave Avalon a quick hug as their dates quickly got wrapped up in conversation. 

Rosalie beamed at Avalon, her eyes skirting towards the high slit in her dress as she said, “I will always admire you for pulling off such a bold look… you look absolutely incredible!”

“You look stunning, as well,” Avalon smiled. The petite blonde girl had her golden hair pinned up in an elegant updo, a slew of diamonds pinned into her perfectly styled locks that matched the gems scattered along the waist of her light pink ball gown. 

Before Rosalie could say anything back, Avalon felt someone gently push past her and watched as Demitri made his way through the four of them and toward the punch bowl behind Orion and Axel. He pulled a flask out from his suit and pressed a finger to his lips, signaling for his friends to keep their mouths shut as he poured the contents of the never-ending flask into the bowl with a devilish grin on his lips. 

Axel chuckled and raised his hand, high-fiving his friend as Mulciber began pouring drinks for all of them. “Drink up, children, the night is just starting,” he chuckled, taking a sip from his own cup and shaking his head in disgust at the potency of his own concoction. “Might want to go easy with that,” he said, clapping Axel on the back before he began making his way back into the crowd, calling over his shoulder, “Or don’t.”

The two boys walked over, handing Rosalie and Avalon each a cup as they, themselves, held their own drinks. Before Avalon even took a sip, her nose scrunched in disgust at the smell of the alcohol in the drink. “Merlin, did he empty an entire bar cart in there?”

Rosalie took a small sip before gagging and handing the cup back to Axel, shaking her head. “That is vile.”

“More for me, I suppose,” Nott laughed as he drank from his own cup. 

Orion chuckled and held his glass up toward Avalon. “Cheers!”

She clinked her glass against his and said, “Cheers,” before the two of them downed the drinks in one go, their faces contorting into disgust the moment they felt the strong liquor burning down their throats. “Bartending is not one of Mulciber’s talents, I see.”

“Taste has never been his concern as long as the drink does its job,” Axel said, a hint of a smile on his lips as he shook his head and drank Rosalie’s drink, as well. 

“Oh because you’re such a sommelier,” Orion said to Axel, earning a roll of his eyes from his best friend.

“I never said I disagreed with his tactics,” Nott shrugged.

Orion laughed. “Remember that one summer we spent in Spain where he snuck out every night to collect all the bottles he could find out of the wine cellar and mix them all together to create a ‘Demitri Special?’”

The pair quickly got caught up in conversation, laughing about their memories and sharing inside jokes as hearty laughter bellowed out of their chests.

Not particularly interested in their conversation, Avalon looked towards the entrance of the Hall and noticed Xavier walking in, Kyra’s arm linked around his, both of them dressed in the most expensive outfits that money could buy. Behind them was Adonis and his date, the four of them melting into the crowd almost as quickly as they had arrived. 

She tried to pay them no mind, doing her best to ignore them and make the most of the night. Thankfully, Rosalie’s hand grasping onto her wrist tore her away from her thoughts. “Do you want to dance?” the girl asked. “Since our dates are busy apparently taking a stroll down their own personal memory lane, that is.”

She glanced at the two boys, who were so busy in their own conversation that she shrugged. “Let’s go!” Rosalie squealed and began dragging her onto the dance floor.

They spent about half an hour together, most of that time being Rosalie patiently teaching Avalon how to swing dance. Halfway through, Zelda and Jane joined them, the four girls all dancing together happily.

Every once in a while, Avalon would glance towards Orion to check up on him. Not too long after she and Rosalie left, Tom and Demitri joined Axel and Orion, the four boys leaning up against a wall and engaging in conversation as they all drank Mulciber’s spiked punch. She would catch Avery’s eye every so often and he would flash her a bright smile, but she was glaringly aware of how Tom’s gaze remained just as fixated on her as her date’s.

Eventually, Axel and Orion sauntered over onto the dancefloor, walking up to the girls. “Mind if we steal our dates back?” Axel asked, flashing a charming smile to Zelda and Jane, who laughed and nodded as the boys led their dates further into the crowd of dancing bodies. 

Orion spun Avalon around, making her laugh as he danced with her to the music, their smiles stretching so wide across their faces that she felt her cheeks begin to ache. She kept noticing Avery’s eyes glancing over her shoulder and eventually turned to see Clara and her date dancing not too far away. “Would you like me to pass along a message?” she asked him, breaking him out of his trance.

His eyes lit up. “Could you tell her I’d love to steal her for a dance in an hour at our spot near the Greenhouse?”

“Coming right up,” she nodded, giving his hand a supportive squeeze before she pushed her way past the countless swaying bodies on the dancefloor until she reached Clara. The strawberry blond beauty was dressed in a dainty, sage-green gown. She looked like an ethereal princess… It was no surprise how Avery had managed to fall so deeply in love with her: the girl was beautiful inside and out. She tapped Clara on the shoulder and watched as she spun around, a wide grin on her face as she saw Avalon. “Could I steal you for a dance?”

Clara nodded and quickly told her date she’d find him in a bit before focusing her attention on Avalon. “Red looks beautiful on you,” she commented. 

“And you look lovely as ever,” Avalon replied. “Orion hasn’t been able to take his eyes off you the entire night.”

Clara shook her head, a light blush creeping onto her cheeks before she said, “I’m thrilled the two of you came together.”

“I’d much prefer if the two of you could come together, but thank you for being so open to us coming as friends,” she said. “I was worried you wouldn’t be okay with-”

“Oh, love,” Clara giggled, cutting her off. “You never have to worry about me. I trust both you and him enough to know that the two of you share a special friendship. And, regardless,” she paused, trying to hold back a laugh as she glanced at Orion who was jokingly slow dancing with Axel as Rosalie shook her head beside them. “I don’t quite imagine he’s your type, anyway.”

Avalon burst into laughter. “And what do you imagine my type to be?”

She watched as the girl tried to bite back a smile, her eyes flickering over Avalon’s shoulder as she glanced towards Riddle. “A little birdie tells me it’s tall, dark, and handsome.”

Avalon let out a groan. “That same little birdie wanted me to tell you to meet him at your spot by the Greenhouse in an hour.” She saw a spark of happiness light up in Clara’s eyes. It was then that she noticed the golden promise ring on Clara’s finger, the opal dazzling under the lights. “Cute ring,” she said with a knowing wink before waving and walking back towards Orion. 

The next hour was filled with dancing and drinking, the student body growing rowdier with each glass of Mulciber’s spiked punch. Avalon and Orion danced the night away, laughing together as they felt the buzz of their drinks make it near impossible to keep the smiles off their faces. Her worries faded, even if only for the night, and left her feeling happy and carefree as she spent time with Orion, who she had noticed had quickly grown to become one of her most cherished friends.

Every once in a while, she would grab a hold of Orion’s arm and look at the watch on his wrist, checking the time periodically to ensure that he could still make it to his meeting with his girlfriend. When the hour was nearing its end, she dragged him off the dancefloor and said, “Alright, Romeo, time to go spend the rest of the night with your girl.”

His eyes lit up more than they already had, but he put a hand on her shoulder and held her gaze regardless, asking, “Are you sure you’re okay with me leaving? I don’t want to-”

“Go!” she insisted. “You promised me that you’d ditch me, remember?”

He laughed and nodded, “And I’d hate to break my word.”

“Off you go!” she grinned, motioning for him to leave. But, as he was about to walk off, she gently grabbed his wrist and added, “And thank you, again. For everything.”

He turned back around and smiled as he picked her up and spun her around, giving her a tight hug when he put her back down and said, “You were the best fake date I could have asked for, Ava. I’ll see you later, have a nice rest of your evening.”

“You too!” she said as she waved goodbye, watching as he quickly slipped out of the Hall and left her on her own, watching over the crowds before her. It was quite a sight: to see all of her friends, professors, and classmates dressed in their finest, smiling, dancing, and laughing the night away. 

She poured herself another glass of punch, trying not to cringe too hard at the horrid taste as it trickled down her throat in one burning wave. Her eyes scanned the Great Hall and she smiled to herself as she watched Zelda and Jane dancing together with a mixed group of Gryffindors and Ravenclaws, Axel and Rosalie hidden away in a corner and stealing quick kisses off one another’s lips, and even Mulciber was standing with a girl by his side, a sly grin on his lips as he pulled his wand out of his suit and conjured mistletoe above the two of them before leaning in and kissing her. 

It was, by all accounts, a beautiful and joyous night. And she was happy, for the most part… but, as she stood by herself in the back of the Hall, overlooking the couples and friends laughing and dancing together, she couldn’t wash away the feeling of bitter nostalgia she got as she thought of her last Yule Ball with her own friends.

She thought about the memories they had made: getting ready together, dancing, laughing… nothing special, yet still some of the dearest moments she held in her heart.

She tried hard to not think about it, but deep down she knew that she didn’t belong here-- she wasn’t supposed to. This was not her time. She had found friends here that she loved dearly, with her entire being, and yet she still knew that her true home was back in her own era, with her own friends. 

Her heart ached for the day she’d see them again, when all of this was over. And the day would have to come where she would leave the people she had met here. Their friendship would be forced to become nothing more than a fond memory-- and that thought did hurt her-- yet she’d still trade everything she had here for her life back home in a heartbeat. 

“Missing something?”

She whipped around and watched as Riddle strode over to her, drink in his hand. 

Her heart dropped into her stomach. “What?”

“Your date,” he clarified. 

A sigh of relief slipped out of her lips and she stuttered out, “Oh, yeah.”

“Where is Avery?” he asked, putting the glass to his lips as he took a slow drink, keeping his dark eyes glued to her while he sipped. 

“Lost him in the crowd,” she lied, shrugging. The look on his face told her that he didn’t believe her, but before he could press her any further, she said, “Surprised you’re talking to me. After ignoring me for days.”

“We both seem to be quite good at that,” he said, a slight smile on his lips. 

“Rumor has it that you were named Head Boy for next year. How was the party?”

He shrugged, his voice cool when he said, “I didn’t stay long.”

“You left your own celebration?”

“Those fools will use anything as an excuse to get drunk. It was hardly my celebration.” 

The weight of his unwavering stare forced her to take in a deep breath. There was something different about how he was looking at her: it was more curious, less intrusive. She had to put in active efforts to steady her own breathing, and she found herself wondering if he had to do the same. 

The rest of the Hall seemed to blur into the background of her thoughts, her focus solely pointed toward him. The couples slowly dancing together to the classical music faded to nothingness, leaving the two of them alone in the drape of their seeming isolation.

He looked calm… collected-- quite the opposite of what she was feeling, herself. The way his dark eyes demanded her attention with such an air of confidence and composure, she couldn’t help but be drawn into his allure. Desperate to tear her gaze away from his, she shifted her eyes down and watched as his lips slightly twisted up into a cunning smirk, amusement written on his features as he took note of how deliberately she avoided his eyes.

He looked her up and down, his gaze lingering as he noticed the slit she had created in the dress. Without realizing it, he found himself biting the inside of his cheek as his gaze slowly dragged back to her eyes and he said, “You look-”

“Does it actually matter how I look? Or can we forget the small talk and address what happened?” she said, cutting him off. 

He silently raised his glass back to his lips, taking a drink instead of answering her question. 

“You’re impossible,” she muttered, rolling her eyes as she turned around and began to walk away. But, before she could make an exit, she felt his hand wrap tightly around her wrist and pull her back. He led her towards the crowd, ignoring her as she blurted out, “What are you-”

Her words were cut off by his own. “Dance with me,” he stated, placing a hand on her waist and taking her other hand into his own. She knew that he wasn’t asking, it was more of a command, but her body naturally positioned itself in the way Orion had taught her in Mrs. Bitterwood’s shop.

She placed her free hand atop his shoulder and took in a sharp breath as he pulled her up against his body, the smell of cologne, parchment, and flames hitting her nose as she tried to steady her racing heartbeat. 

They held each other’s eyes as he led their movements, guiding them through the dance floor as if they were the only two in existence. She focused on the way his body moved, making sure to mirror his perfect rhythm, doing her best to keep up with him. 

Dancing with him was nothing like dancing with Avery.

With Orion, it was teamwork: friendly, equal, and joyous. But with Tom, it was a battle for dominance-- for control. 

He lifted his left arm up and she instinctively spun beneath it, her steps matching the tune of the orchestral music as she returned to her original position-- pressed against him-- and they kept going without missing a beat. 

She was growing increasingly aware of the countless eyes that had become fixated on the pair of them. Students and professors alike watched as their bodies gracefully melted together in a beautiful display of power and poise. For a moment, her eyes trailed away from Tom’s and she caught a glance of Xavier glaring at them, his flask pressed to his lips as he drank with a clenched jaw and hatred in his green eyes. 

“Look at me,” Tom commanded, his deep voice breaking her out of her thoughts. 

She returned her attention to him as he spun her around, his hold on her waist becoming ever-so-slightly tighter as he pulled her in once more. Trying to keep her voice as steady as possible, she asked, “Was it Rosier?”

“And Lestrange,” he answered.

“Why?”

She let out a small gasp as he dipped her down, his body lingering above hers for a moment before he pulled her back up and towards him, resuming their movements. “It was meant for you.”

The music was nearing its end, and she felt both of his hands find a home on her waist before he gently lifted her up and twirled her around. When he lowered her back to the ground, his movements were slow and they both found themselves incapable of looking away as the music came to a dramatic finish, the people around them all politely clapping as the dancers all caught their breath. 

Her next words slipped out in a rushed flurry. “Did you mean what you said?”

She saw his eyes flicker down to her lips before meeting her gaze once more. “I was given Veritaserum, Hendrix.” He paused for a moment before quietly saying, “I-”

“I have to go,” she blurted out, letting go of him and quickly turning around, running off into the crowd before he could finish his sentence. He took a step after her before stopping himself and watching as her red figure disappeared amid the sea of people, leaving him speechless and alone in a crowd of faceless people.

Avalon pushed through her peers, not bothering to apologize as she scrambled past them to reach the exit. Her thoughts were racing almost as fast as her heart was, and she felt her breathing come out in choppy gasps. 

She spotted Mulciber leaning up against a wall by the exit, a girl standing with him as he chatted away, but she quickly stormed up to the boy and demanded, “I need a drink.”

His eyes widened before he let out a hearty chuckle and opened up his suit to reveal a plethora of flasks stashed inside. “What do you want, Hendrix?”

“The strongest,” she grumbled.

“Say no more,” he grinned, pulling out a silver flask and tossing it to her. She muttered out a quick thank you before bolting out of the Great Hall, running up the stairs of the castle as she scrambled to get as far away from the Ball as she could. 

Tom shook his head before he began to dart after her, his head whipping from side to side as he looked for her, but she was already long gone, nowhere to be found amid the mass of people that surrounded him. 

Avalon felt as though the air around her was growing thin. She scrambled up, up, and up until finally she found herself at the top of the Astronomy Tower, the bitter chill of the night wind sending a shiver down her spine as she breathed in the fresh air. Her fingers shakily grabbed her wand from beneath her dress and she quickly cast two spells: one to blanket the Tower in warmth, and another to bar anyone else from entering. 

She watched as an iridescent, shimmery shield appeared by the entrance and then walked towards the end of the Tower, hopping onto the ledge and overlooking the dark grounds beneath her as she tried to clear her thoughts. 

She hastily twisted the cap off of the flask she got from Mulciber and took a drink, ignoring the burn as it made its way down her throat. 

Her heart was filled with a flaming disappointment: at the world and at herself. She had come here to save her friends. She had come here to kill Tom Riddle. She had come here to make sure that history would be rewritten so the future could be saved.

But here she was, dancing with him at a bloody Yule Ball.

She took another long drink from the flask, thanking the heavens that it was charmed to never run out. 

Slowly, she sat down on the ledge, her red dress spreading out around her body as her feet dangled off the side of the tower. The breeze blew on the stray pieces of her hair, ruffling them as the night took hostage of her heart. 

Looking out at the darkness beyond the castle calmed her-- it looked the same as it did in her own time. Expansive nothingness-- no buildings, no people, no anything. Just empty land. It was comforting to see, in a sense, because it let her mind think about nothing at all, yet everything she needed.

With nothing, came clarity.

And with clarity, came guilt. 

Guilt for dancing with the man responsible for the deaths of her loved ones. Guilt for the way she couldn’t stop her heart from skipping a beat when he placed his hand on her waist. Guilt for how she looked into the eyes of a killer-- a cold-blooded killer-- and saw… warmth. 

Guilt for wondering if perhaps, she had been wrong about him all along.

With guilt, came those same dark, midnight eyes. 

And with that, she took another drink from the flask. 

Meanwhile, Tom was pacing around the Great Hall, trying to catch any sight of where Avalon had bolted off to. It seemed as though she had disappeared into thin air, leaving behind no trace, no clue, no hint of where she had gone. 

He didn’t know why she had run, but he also didn’t know why he was looking for her. All he knew was that he needed to find her, and he couldn’t explain it even if he tried.

He paced the perimeter of the Ball for what felt like an eternity, asking everyone he saw if they had seen Hendrix. He even spoke to her roommate, but not even Shacklebolt had spotted her. Finally, he wondered if perhaps she had run back to Ravenclaw Tower, so he made a bee-line for the exit, though he let out a huff of agitation as Mulciber strode in front of him, blocking his path with a wide grin plastered on his lips. 

“Where are you off to, Tommy boy?” Demitri asked, his arm slung around the shoulder of a dark-haired Slytherin girl and his words slurring as he took a swig from a golden flask in his grasp.

“Not now,” Tom said, trying to push past him. 

“What’s the rush?” the drunken boy asked, once again blocking his path. 

“I have to find Hendrix. Out of my way,” he growled, shoving Demitri aside and storming off.

“I saw her leave half an hour ago!” 

Tom froze in his tracks before turning around. “Where did she go?”

Mulciber shrugged. “Not sure. She grabbed one of my flasks and then ran up the stairs,” he said pointing towards the Tower’s stairwell. 

Tom didn’t bother to respond, he just started to race towards the stairs, making his way up the Tower. He peered into every hallway, every door, every corridor, but he caught no glimpse of the girl he was searching for. 

He carried himself all the way up to the very top before he saw it: an iridescent shield in the entrance of the Astronomy Tower. Quietly, he walked up to it and peered inside, letting out a quiet sigh when his eyes landed on the girl perched atop the ledge, her blood-red dress fluttering in the wind. 

Her eyes were closed, but she instinctively drew a silver flask to her lips, taking an elongated drink, showing no sign of cringing as the alcohol touched her tongue. He cleared his throat and called out, “Hendrix.” When her eyes opened, she glanced over at him with a hazy stare. His hand was already on his wand, and he knew how to take down the protection she had put up, but instead, he slowly asked, “Will you take down the shield?”

She bit her lip and he could see the reluctance in her eyes as she debated his request, but ultimately, she pointed her wand towards him and the glimmering shield faded away, allowing him to walk past it. “What is it?” she asked, her words terribly slurred. 

_ The girl drinks more than all of the Quidditch boys combined, _ he thought to himself. 

“Get off the ledge,” he said, ignoring her question. She frowned, clearly not happy with being told what to do. He began to walk towards her and she shook her head furiously. “Hendrix-”

Instead of listening, she got up on her feet and began balancing atop the beam of the tower, walking along the dangerously flimsy railing as she shakily balanced herself, a smug smirk on her lips as she skirted inches away from a thousand-foot drop.

“Hendrix, get down,” he warned once more, taking a cautious step forward. 

“Or what?” she laughed, shaking her head. 

“Or you’ll fall to your death,” he said. “Get down.”

Watching her walk so carelessly along the edge made him uneasy. He didn’t understand how she could be so reckless. One wrong move and she could lose her life, and for what? Absolutely nothing.

That didn’t seem to phase her, though. She merely placed one foot in front of the other and kept walking along the railing, her dress fluttering behind her as the wind blew against her skin. Her eyes closed and she took another step, at this point doing whatever she could to irk him.

“Hendrix, I swear-.” His eyes widened as her footing slipped and she lost her balance, her eyes opening just in time for her to latch onto a pillar and keep herself from stumbling off the railing. He ran over and grabbed her by the waist, yanking her off the ledge, his eyes furious as he glared at her laughing figure. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?!”

She wouldn’t stop laughing. 

Why the bloody hell was she laughing?

“What is so funny?” he snarled, dragging her as far away from the ledge as possible.

“I wasn’t actually going to fall,” she slurred out. 

“You almost did,” he said, struggling to keep his voice level. 

“Almost… won’t kill me,” she chuckled, a small hiccup escaping her lips, making her laugh harder.

“Why chance death?”

She shrugged. “Isn’t everything up to chance?”

“Not mortality.”

“I disagree,” she said. “I think that’s the most random of all…” she paused for a moment and looked out towards the expansive darkness, her eyes half glossed-over. “When we live… when we die… it’s all just pure… chance.”

“Perhaps if you’re reckless.”

“As if being careful makes us immortal,” she scoffed. 

“Being careful doesn’t make you immortal, but the alternative gets you killed,” he reasoned.

“I’m not afraid of death,” she grumbled, walking back towards the ledge but merely peering over the railing rather than standing atop it. “I’m more afraid of immortality than I am of dying.”

He didn’t understand her-- no matter how hard he tried, he never could. “You mean to tell me that if given the option to be immortal, you wouldn’t take it?”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to live forever. Living forever just means watching everyone you love eventually die…” Her last few words came out as nothing more than a pained whisper. “And I’ve already done that.”

He didn’t know how to reply to that. All he could do was stare at the forlorn look on her face as she surely reflected on the things she had been through. Never before had he doubted that she had lived a tough life, but every time she offered glimpses into exactly what she had endured, he was left a little bit more shaken. Finally, he asked, “What if they didn’t have to die, either?”

A bitter laugh escaped her lips as she took another sip from her flask before replying, “If only… it was that easy.”

He sighed. “Not being afraid of death is still no reason to dance with it.”

“I caught myself before I fell, didn’t I?” she shot back. “And anyway, I’m sure if I did stumble you would have… I don’t know, used some sort of fancy-shmancy magic… maybe  _ ‘Arresto Momentum’ _ … and broke my fall, right?” He didn’t deny it and she shook her head, bitterly laughing as she grumbled to herself, “That’s exactly my problem.”

She raised her flask back up to her lips, drinking from it resentfully. He watched as she kept the flask pressed to her lips for one second, two seconds, three seconds… 

“That’s quite enough,” he said, snatching it out of her hands, earning an angry protest and immediate attempts to grab it back. He held it up over his head and watched as she tried to reach it, her arms flailing up as she jumped to grab it with no success. He saw her open her mouth, surely to  _ ‘Accio’ _ it back, so he turned it to dust in his hands and watched as her hazel eyes once again lit up in anger. 

“What’s your bloody problem?!” she yelled. “Why do you care?”

“Avalo-”

“Don’t  _ ‘Avalon’ _ me,” she grumbled. “You don’t get to pretend like you care about my safety! You give me whiplash, I swear. One second you’re trying to kill me, the next you’re babysitting me? Give me a fucking break!”

_ Bloody hell, she was feisty when she was drunk _ , he thought to himself. 

“You don’t talk to me for a whole goddamn week… and then you come in here… with your goddamn suit, and your tie, and your… your fucking  _ cheekbones… _ and you wanna…  _ dance _ ?” she sneered, rolling her eyes as she exasperatedly threw her hands up in the air. 

An amused smirk found its way onto his lips. “My cheekbones?”

“Don’t change the fucking subject!” she frowned, crossing her arms and glaring up at him. 

He had to fight the urge to smile. For someone so small, she had quite a lot of pent up aggression in her tiny drunken body. When she angrily stomped her foot on the ground, he couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips. 

“I’m serious! This isn’t funny!” she rattled off. 

“Of course not,” he agreed, taking hold of her wrist and gently pulling her towards the exit. “Follow me.”

“I’m not following you anywhere,” she protested, but despite her words, her feet dragged after him. 

“Of course not,” he repeated, taking her down the stairs of the Tower.

His amusement soon faded to irritation as he led her towards the Slytherin dorms and her drunken rambling persisted the entire journey. It was as though her mouth had absolutely no filter-- everything she thought just spewed right out as if she were an endless fountain of angry tirades. She called him out for nearly everything: for being rude, cold, dismissive, violent, patronizing, egotistical, annoying, impulsive… even handsome? He hardly understood how that was  _ his _ bloody fault, but she left  _ nothing _ unsaid. 

Her belligerent ranting continued all the way until the pair were standing outside his dorm and he twisted the doorknob, motioning for her to get inside with an exasperated sigh and shutting the door behind them, once again leaving him alone and forced to listen to her shrill voice. 

“-and you walk around these halls as if you’re better than every-”

“Will you  _ shut up _ ?!” he finally roared.

And, then, finally… some fucking silence.

She stared at him with wide-eyes, taken aback by his sudden outburst. For a moment, he thought she was going to cry…

He was sadly mistaken. 

“Don’t you fucking dare tell me to shut up!” she shrieked, advancing towards him as she jabbed an angry finger into his chest. “Why the bloody hell am I even here?!”

He groaned, shaking his head as he pushed past her and towards his desk, opening up a drawer and pulling out a small vial of blue liquid. “For the love of Merlin, drink this.”

“What is-”

“Just fucking drink it, Avalon!” he yelled, pushing it towards her. She narrowed her eyes on the vial before hesitantly taking it from his hands and staring at it. Her nimble fingers screwed off the cap and she smelled it, but there was no odor. “It’s poison,” he sneered sarcastically with a roll of his eyes. 

“I figured,” she grumbled before reluctantly drinking it. As soon as she swallowed the potion down, her hazy eyes seemed to clear up and she blinked a few times, clarity once again rushing back into her body as she sobered up. Her words were no longer slurred when she asked, “Was that a sobering potion?”

He didn’t even answer. He just moved to his bed and plopped down with his head in his hands, trying to clear the raging headache she had given him. In that moment, he suddenly found himself longing for the peace he had known on August 31st… the day before she had entered his life.

“You didn’t think that I was only angry because of the alcohol, did you?”

He let out a groan as his hands dragged down his face. “Are you quite finished yet?”

“No, I’m not,” she said, though her voice was at least less loud than before. “I meant what I said. You’re infuriatingly hard to decipher.”

“And you’re so easy to understand?” he asked, looking up at her from his spot on his bed. 

“At least I-”

“It’s my turn,” he growled, silencing her. “You show up on the first day of school and try to murder me in class, you break into my room and search through my things, you weasel your way into my goddamn circle, and suddenly I’m the one who has problems? Have you looked in a bloody mirror recently? You’re absolutely mad!”

“I’m absolutely mad? You tortured one of your best friends!”

“To protect you, my God!” he exclaimed, standing up off his bed. “And, mind you, you’ve  _ killed _ four people!”

She ran a hand through her hair, tugging at the roots as she advanced towards him. “So have you! And I don’t need protecting… even if I  _ did _ , I wouldn’t want it from you!” 

“That’s your problem, Avalon! You’re so stubborn that you don’t even know what’s best for you,” he snarled, closing the gap between them until she was forced to look up at his exasperated face.

“And  _ you _ know what’s best for me,  _ Tom _ ?” she hissed. 

“I never said that,” he growled. “Why does everything have to be an argument with you?”

“Because you’re always wrong!”

“And you’re always a stubborn  _ brat _ !”

“Merlin, I  _ hate _ you!” she blurted out, her fingers still tangled deep into her own hair as she shook her head. She finally dug them out and groaned, pressing her finger into his chest as she snarled, “I hate everything about you! But what I hate the most is how after everything you make me put up with, after every bloody thing you do to piss me off, I’m still here! I’m still here listening and dealing with-”

Her words were cut off when she felt both of his hands cup her cheeks and pull her towards him, the space between them suddenly nonexistent as his lips crashed against hers and he kissed her.


	34. Chapter 34

She barely registered what was going on-- it all happened so fast. One moment she was yelling at him, the next she felt his lips crash against her own. 

A shocked gasp escaped her mouth, but the weight of his kiss silenced it immediately. Her fingers bunched up the fabric of his shirt as she tried to understand the sudden course of events, but as soon as she did…

She pushed against his chest and shoved him away from her, her eyes wide and frantic. They both stumbled apart and the room became thick with a tense silence, the only semblance of noise being their choppy breathing and racing heartbeats. 

She didn’t know what had just happened, she didn’t know why it had happened, she didn’t know how it had happened… 

All she knew is that when he had kissed her, she had felt the world around her stop spinning. 

Both of their chests were rising and falling in labored breaths. When her bewildered eyes met his, she could see a look of panic starting to flush across his rosy cheeks. Neither one of them said anything-- they didn’t know what should be said. 

He looked like he was about to say something, though it didn’t much matter to her. Before her mind had a chance to stop her, she took a step forward and grabbed a hold of his tie, tugging on the dark fabric and watching as his body jerked back towards hers and she met the warmth of his lips once more. 

She felt him let out a sigh of relief against her mouth before one of his strong arms wrapped around her waist, the other snaking around to the back of her head and tangling into her hair as he kissed her back. 

The kiss was not gentle, or loving, or soft-- it was hungry. Reckless. Desperate. 

And she knew there were a million reasons why this was wrong, but none of that  _ mattered _ because kissing him felt  _ right _ . 

His fingers moved down and grappled with the fabric of her dress, clumping it into his clenched fists. He tried to pull her in as close as possible, pressing their bodies together in a flurry of raw emotion. Their lips met in a collision of fire on fire, both of their mouths moving against one another’s with a burning intensity that drove them to breathless insanity.

Her movements weren’t her own-- they were driven by a relentless force within her that wanted nothing more than to savor the feeling of his soft lips against her own. She let out a quiet gasp when she felt him take her bottom lip in between his teeth, and he took her slight exhale as an opportunity to deepen their kiss and swallow her surprise with the feeling of his tongue tracing along hers. 

She was desperate for something to hold onto. So, her hands buried themselves into his dark curls. She tugged wantonly at his hair as he used one hand to cup the side of her face and keep her steady while his mouth wandered from her lips to her jaw, leaving a heated trail of kisses all along her flushed skin. When the warmth of his mouth found its way to her neck, she couldn’t help the quiet moan that slipped out of her lips when she felt him suck harshly on her skin before swiping his tongue over the sensitive spot and cooling it with another desperate kiss. She pulled on his hair-- hard-- and the sound of his quiet groan sent a shiver down her spine. 

For a short moment, he pulled away, only to look at the way she was breathlessly panting before him… for him… 

His eyes lingered on her lips, his own mouth parted as he let out a few shallow breaths. When his gaze finally drove back to meet hers, she saw the way his eyes had darkened with an insatiable lust she had never seen in him before. 

Her eyelashes fluttered around her doe-like hazel eyes and she looked up at him. Her fingers nervously left their home in his hair and slowly dragged back down to his chest as she panted breathlessly. 

For the first time since meeting her, he thought that she looked uncertain of herself. There was almost an air of innocence surrounding her as she panted in his arms… and it was driving him fucking mad. 

She opened her mouth to speak, but as soon as he heard the first sound of his name leave her parted lips, he pulled her fiercely back into him, kissing her once more and stopping the word before it could meet the quiet air. All while making sure not to break the lock of their lips, his feet began pushing forward and her body instinctively followed his demanding lead until she felt the cold stone of a wall press against her exposed back. 

Her fingers returned to their rightful spot tangled within his raven hair and as he moved his lips down and nipped harshly on the base of her neck, she tugged at the dark locks, their movements feeding off another’s actions-- an endless cycle of cause, effect, and scattered desire.

His free hand traced the outline of her lips, his touch feather-light as he felt the softness of her mouth beneath the pads of his fingers. His touch lingered on her lips until she parted them and took his fingers into her mouth. She felt him let out a warm huff of air onto her neck as she sucked on his digits, catching his eyes when he looked up from his spot on her collar. All he could do was watch as her lips slightly twisted into a smug smirk, her tongue swirling over his fingertips as she batted her eyelashes at him innocently, her cheeks hollowed out around his touch. 

In his momentary hesitation, she snaked a hand around to his chest and tightly grasped the fabric of his shirt, pulling him back towards her lips. She caught him in another kiss, her tongue meeting his in their mutual desperation. He felt her needy hands begin to work on taking his jacket off and he grinned into their kiss before shrugging his shoulders and feeling the weight of the fabric fall from his body and onto the floor. 

She wasted no time after, her hands quickly undoing his tie, then his waistcoat, and finally grappling with the buttons on his shirt. She began popping them open one by one. He let her get through all of them and watched her tear the fabric off his body, hastily discarding it to the side before he caught her hands and moved them back around his neck. His mouth wandered towards the side of her face, once again leaving a trail of kisses along her searing skin. 

For someone with such darkness lurking behind his eyes, his body looked as though it was sculpted for an angel. He was lean, yet there was a clear definition where his toned muscles resided. When he tilted his head and kissed alongside her face, she could see the way both his jaw and shoulders flexed with each movement, the sight making her take her bottom lip between her teeth. 

She felt the heat of his breath tickle her ear before he leaned in, his lips just barely gracing her skin when he whispered, “You were saying you hate me?”

His hands raked down her back-- slowly, tantalizingly-- until they rested just underneath her thighs. He pulled his face back so he could watch her reaction when his hands forcefully tugged her body, leaving her no choice but to jump just in time for him to close the slight gap between them and hoist her legs around his waist, the slit in her gown letting her get as close to him as possible. He kept one hand beneath her thighs, holding her up, while her arms looped instinctively around his neck and she breathlessly said, “With every ounce…” her words momentarily trailed off when she felt his lips make contact with her neck once more, leaving harsh kisses with the intent of painting her skin with an array of tiny bruises. “... of my being.”

“Is that so?” he mumbled into her neck, his free hand wrapping around her throat as he forced her to stay still against his hypnotic touch. His voice was low and seductive. “Tell me more.” 

She opened her mouth to speak, but his grip on her neck only tightened, causing her to let out a quiet gasp. When she felt his other hand slowly sliding further and further up the exposed skin beneath the slit of her dress, her head lulled backward and she bit back a moan, doing her best to suppress the sounds of euphoria that threatened to slip out.

He could tell that she was doing her best to stay quiet. It was obvious. The way she kept taking her bottom lip between her teeth, the way she sharply inhaled every time his arms tightened their hold around her, the way she let out soft whimpers whenever his teeth grazed her skin… she was desperate to control her own pleasure-- and he was determined to break her resolve. 

“Use your words, Avalon,” he commanded, his voice low and raspy-- thick with a thousand blossoming desires as he carried her towards his bed, his grip tightening around her thighs.

She swallowed down her nerves before speaking, trying to keep her tone as steady as possible, muttering out, “You’re insufferable.”

“Am I?” he hummed into her skin, lowering her slowly into the mattress. 

“A complete and utter narcissist,” she spat out, her body sinking into his bed as she watched him climb atop her. She took in a sharp breath when she felt his grip loosen off her neck and begin to slide down her body.

“You mean it?” he asked, a smirk on his lips as he began pressing kisses back along her skin. 

Her breath hitched when she felt his touch slow as he dragged his hands along the curve of her breasts, but she tried not to show it. “The biggest ego-maniac-” she bit her lip when his hand kept moving lower… lower… lower… “-that I have ever met.”

“Oh no,” he said with a slight laugh, his touch creeping down her exposed thigh. His free hand hastily reached into his pocket, grabbing his wand and pointing it absentmindedly at the door as he wordlessly cast a silencing charm on the room before throwing it to the side.

Then, he slowly undid the holster she had hidden under her dress, tossing it carelessly onto the floor beside his wand. The warmth of his fingers sent a shiver down her spine. He was painfully aware of how responsive she was to his touch, and it only made his eyes darken more and more. 

Still, his touch went lower… 

“I  _ hate _ you,” she hissed. 

He hooked his fingers along the side of her lacy underwear, taking in a sharp breath before he whispered into her ear, “Then tell me to stop.” But, she didn’t say anything and his touch hovered towards her core. For a moment, he lingered there, giving her a chance to speak up before he snarled, “Tell me to stop, Avalon.”

Her fingers dug into his bare back and a slight hiss escaped his lips before he finally slid her underwear to the side and touched her, biting down on his lip when he heard a soft moan fall from her mouth. 

When she felt his touch, her back arched up, her body reacting instantly to the warmth of his fingers moving tantalizingly slowly against her core. He could feel her dripping arousal on his fingers, a grin finding its way onto his lips as he whispered into her ear, “You don’t  _ feel _ like you hate me.”

She met his gaze, her eyes hazy as she muttered out, “But I do.”

He flicked his touch against her clit, earning a sharp gasp that only fueled his own ego. “Oh, do you now?” No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t ignore the feeling of his fingers running circles against her, his pace speeding up every time he saw her body arch at his touch. He slid a finger easily into her while his thumb slowly continued to circle around her clit. “How about now?”

“Yes,” she shakily exhaled, her breath hitching in her throat when she felt him slip another finger into her. The warmth of his touch sunk deep into her, his long fingers easing in effortlessly, but the cold sting of his metal ring sent a jolt of electricity through her entire body, making her toes curl in pleasure. 

“What about now?” 

It was hard to keep her voice level, but she managed to hum out a quiet  _ ‘mhm _ ’ before she shut her eyes. She tried to bite back her urge to cry out, but it was growing harder and harder to contain herself around him. 

“And…” he curled his fingers inside her and a satisfied smirk overtook his features as he watched her squirm under his touch, her fingers raking uncontrollably along his back. “...now?” She couldn’t hold back the loud moan that fell from her lips as he moved his fingers in and out while his thumb continued to rub circles around her. The sound of her pleasure was enough to drive him mad. “That’s what I thought.” 

From that moment on, she gave up on trying to stay quiet. While his fingers continued working away at her core, he leaned down and kissed along her neck, partly to get back to his task of scattering her skin with as many lovebites as he could manage, and partly because he wanted his ears to be close to her mouth so he could clearly hear every moan, every whimper, every cry that fell from her parted lips. 

“Look at me,” he instructed her, but her eyes remained closed shut. Impatiently, he moved his free hand up her neck and grabbed her by the chin, tilting her head towards him when he repeated, more sternly, “I said look at me, Avalon.” Her eyes opened, but just barely. The sight of her-- so unraveled...so vulnerable-- all because of him, was like a drug. Her lips were swollen from the countless kisses he had stolen from her, and her neck a painted canvas of budding purple bruises. As he curled his fingers inside her once more and she let out a tantalizing moan, he loosed his grip on her face and leaned down, growling into her ear, “Look at me and remember how you feel right now the next time you say that you hate me.”

She couldn’t think straight. Her mind was a muddled mess of a million thoughts, but only one thing mattered: she felt fucking  _ good _ . 

Her body felt as though it was on fire, but in the best possible way. Every inch of her burned with the lingering heat of his touch. Her nails were digging into his back while her lips stayed parted and a constant wave of pleasure escaped from her mouth. Looking at him above her, his deep brown eyes focused on her and only her while his fingers rhythmically slid in and out of her… she swore she saw the gates of heaven in the distance. 

Her stomach was knotting as she neared her finish, and she found it increasingly difficult to keep her eyes open, but his daunting gaze reminded her that she had no choice. In a mess of pure need, her hips moved against his fingers involuntarily as she desperately found herself begging for release, her brows furrowing as her parted lips flowed out an endless slew of euphoric moans. 

She was almost at her peak when he tangled his free hand into her hair and said, “I want to hear you come for me, Avalon.”

_ Oh my god... _

With one last curl of his fingers, her body shuddered and a moan so loud he nearly mistook it for a scream left her lips as she came around his fingers. He listened to her chant out his name like a prayer and was left clenching his jaw, watching her eyes close shut as she rode out her high. All the while, her nails clawed deeply into his back, making him hiss out in pleasure, too. 

Finally, her body eased up and her arms draped around his neck loosely, her eyes just barely fluttering open as she looked at him with stars in her eyes and parted lips that still could only let out short, choppy breaths. He pulled his fingers out of her, his gaze strewn with insatiable lust when he saw the lingering shine of her arousal. Slowly, he raised his fingers to her mouth and watched as she took them past her swollen lips. Her cheeks hollowed around him as she sucked every last drop off of his fingers, and a satisfied smirk found its way onto his face. 

“Good girl.”

He withdrew his fingers before leaning down and pressing a kiss to her lips. The sweet taste of her still lingered on her mouth, and he swiped his tongue across her bottom lip before taking it between his teeth, earning a quiet groan before he slowly pulled away and left a trail of kisses from her lips… to her jaw… to her neck… to her collarbones…

All the way until he reached the top of her dress. 

The red fabric was growing more and more bothersome to him. Without wasting another moment, he gained a tight grip on her hips and deftly flipped her onto her stomach. He positioned one of his knees by her side and the other between her legs, propping himself up on one arm while the other moved her hair to the side, revealing her back to him.

The scar on her spine was mostly covered by her dress, only the top two letters peeking out from underneath the fabric. 

_ ‘TR _ .’

He had to swallow down his uninhibited fervor at the sight of his initials carved into her back. His gaze lingered there for a moment, taking in the sight with an intemperate lust in his hungry eyes, looking at her as though she were a gift addressed just to him. The only issue was that she was wrapped in red.

When she felt his warm breath hit her ears, she felt a shudder run down her spine as he growled, “That dress makes you look like a bloody Gryffindor.”

“Shut up and take it off,” she commanded, making him let out a quiet laugh.

His fingers latched onto the zipper and he dragged it down the length of her spine, watching as the fabric fell off her body in a crimson wave. The structure of the dress removed the need for a bra, leaving her in nothing but her underwear as he slid it off her body. Once it was all undone, he slowly pulled the dress out from beneath her before snaking his arm around her waist and watching as she turned back around to face him. 

She felt a sudden wave of self-doubt wash over her. Her arms instinctively wrapped around herself as she subconsciously began to cover herself up. It felt odd to sit there before him-- before anyone-- so exposed. She hadn’t shown her body like this to anyone since she was given the scars that littered her skin. The weight of his stare suddenly felt unbearable as she shifted away from his gaze. 

He put a finger under her chin, lifting her head up to meet his eyes. “You don’t have to hide with me.” Despite his words, she tried to avert her stare once more. In response, he grabbed her by the jaw, pulling her face back towards his as he said, “Understood?”

With wide eyes and shaky breaths, she nodded. 

And for some reason, she believed him. There was something about him that made her think she could trust him in their intimacy-- perhaps it was his directness, or perhaps it was only because she knew lying to protect her feelings was not something he would do, but she knew that he was being honest when he spoke. 

So she tried to push her inhibitions to the side. 

Not that he gave her much of a choice. 

Before she knew it, he looped an arm around her back and pulled her forward. Avalon closed the remaining gap, wrapping her legs around his waist and straddling his lap. As she sunk down atop him, she could feel how hard he was through his pants… all because of her.

It was her turn to smirk.

She met his lips in a heated kiss while she tangled her fingers back into his hair. The feeling drove Tom mad and left him wanting-- no, needing-- more. 

His large hands spread out across her back, shoving her closer to him as he pressed their chests together. The feeling of his skin against hers sent sparks through her entire body. They fed off of one another with an undeniable chemistry that neither one could ignore.

He moved his lips down to her neck while one of his hands slid up the side of her body until it cupped the curve of her breast. The pad of his thumb slid across her nipple and he felt her breath hitch in her throat. 

Slowly, he began to move his fingers against the sensitive bud of her breast, pulling away from their kiss and hovering his lips right above hers so he could feel the heat of her breath as she moaned out in pleasure. 

His touch was intoxicating. But, she found herself wanting to gain back some of the control that he had so quickly claimed. So, she rocked her hips back and forth, grinding against the hard bulge in his pants and biting her lip when she heard a slight hiss leave his lips. 

She straightened her back slightly, and he took the opportunity to lean down and latch his lips around her nipple, swirling his tongue over the sensitive tip before sucking harshly and watching as her head rolled back in ecstasy. 

One of her hands trailed down his body until she placed it firmly atop his crotch, palming him eagerly and smiling as she felt him groan against her breast. His mouth parted as he pulled away, watching her with dark, lusting eyes as she moved her fingers and her hips against the growing bulge in his pants. 

She was growing far too in control for his liking.

Tom pushed her back onto the bed, his body looming over hers once more. His fingers hastily undid the buckle on his pants as he impatiently pulled them off, along with both of their underwear. 

The sheer size of him made her stomach tie itself into knots. 

Slowly, he spread her legs and positioned himself at her entrance, leaning down so he could whisper into her ear. “Tell me you want this.”

“Just fuck me already, Riddle,” she impatiently groaned. 

His lips twisted into a sinister smirk. “I don’t know if I like your attitude, dove.”

“Then do something about it,” she challenged.

She couldn’t suppress the moan that evaded her lips when he ran his tip along her slick folds, teasing her devilishly. “Are you talking back to me?”

Despite her efforts, it was impossible to steady her breathing. She tried to keep her voice as cool as possible, but it came out in choppy gasps when she said, “Maybe I am.”

Another moan slipped out when he slowly slid inside her, pressing the first few inches of himself in before quickly drawing out again. Her hands slipped down to her core and she tried to touch herself, desperate for some-- any-- sort of release since he was purposely depriving her. But, before she could, he caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. “Impatient, are we?” he hissed, once again sliding into her and earning a needy gasp. 

And, just as before, he quickly pulled out. 

“Tom...” she cried out, trying to free her hands from his grip. His hold was relentless, though. Watching her squirm beneath him, her eyes fervent with such a burning desperation… he was going to take his time. 

Tom hovered over her ear. He pressed a kiss behind it before gently nipping at it and saying, “Tell me how much you want me.”

“Tom…”

In.

“Please…”

Out.

“P-please,” she whimpered. 

In.

A gasp escaped her lips and she shut her eyes, her struggling continuing against his grasp. 

Deeper.

“I-” Deeper. “- _ oh my god _ .”

Out.

“Tell me, Avalon.”

“I  _ need _ you,” she begged, sounding close to tears. “I fucking need you!”

Both of their moans blended together when he pushed himself fully into her, filling her up with his length as he began rocking into her, reaching places that made her see stars. 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” he hissed out, biting down on his lip as he felt her walls stretch to fit his length. “You’re so tight.” His eyes trailed down to watch himself dip in and out of her, marveling at the way he was stretching her out to fit every last inch of him within her. 

He finally let go of her hands. Immediately, he felt her nails claw into his back in pure desperation. 

She was leaving scratches all over his skin. 

“Harder,” he demanded. A slight look of confusion overtook her features and her fingers momentarily stopped their movements on his back. He narrowed his eyes, thrusting deeper and rougher in his annoyance. “I didn’t tell you to fucking  _ stop _ , did I?” His free hand found its way to her throat. Her eyes widened when she felt his grip around her neck tighten. “I said  _ harder _ .”

A deep groan left his lips when he felt her nails dig harder into his back, painfully raking down and sending a wave of pleasure through his already burning body. He tightened his fingers around her throat again, hissing out, “More.”

She could barely breathe, gasping against the strain of his hold. Without time to even think, she clawed her nails so deep into his back that thin stripes of crimson began to appear, making him moan out, “ _ Fuck _ .”

The burning sensation was enough to invigorate every bit of energy in his body, manifesting in the way his thrusts became harder, deeper, rougher. His fingers left their home around her neck to hastily reach underneath one of her legs and yank it up over his shoulder, the new position allowing him to fill her up more than she thought possible. She quickly grabbed a hold on his flexed bicep, trying to balance herself, too distracted to notice the way she left a litter of scarlet fingerprints on his skin. 

His forehead glistened with tiny beads of sweat, a single dark curl falling in front of his face as he moved a hand down and began rubbing circles into her clit with the pad of his thumb while he continued pounding into her. She saw stars in her eyes as she neared her finish. She could barely hear her own thoughts over the sound of the headboard banging against the wall behind them. All she could do was try to speak, but her words came out stuttered every time he rocked deeper into her. “Tom… Tom I-I… I’m so…”

“You’re so  _ what? _ ” he spat out, his voice degrading as he watched her whimper beneath him. 

“Close…” she cried out. He sped up his pace, nearing his own limit as he fucked her as if they were living their last few moments on earth. “I’m… s-so… clo-  _ ohhh _ .”

The feeling of her tightening around him as she finished drove him to his brink. The feeling of her nails ripping into his biceps was enough to lead him to his own climax. 

His teeth found their way to her collarbone and he bit down-- hard, earning a sharp yelp from Avalon’s swollen lips. “ _ Fucking _ hell,” he groaned out against her skin as he thrust in one last time, desperately grasping the sheets beneath him as he came, filling her up with his release. 

He rode his high until his body felt weak from euphoria. Then, he slowly moved her leg off his shoulder and sunk into the mattress right beside her, his eyes closing as he reveled in the moment. 

They laid in silence for a bit. But, for the first time in a long time, the silence didn’t bother her. 

Finally, when his breathing had steadied a bit, he broke the quiet. “That was-”

“Mhm…” she hummed, cutting him off. 

His eyes glanced toward her. Her eyes were shut, her body surely still weak but her mind racing with a thousand scattered thoughts. 

Her dark hair was a mess, strewn every which way and ridden with a mixture of both of their sweat, but still she managed to radiate with an angelic glow. Her cheeks were flushed rosy pink and her lips swollen, yet he had never seen her look more alluring. Purple spots were strewn all across her body: on her neck, shoulders, collars, breasts, stomach, thighs… The thought of her having to explain them to anyone made the corner of his mouth lift into a slight smirk. 

He could look at her like that forever. 

But, reluctantly, he turned his attention to the side, reaching out his arm and silently summoning his wand to his awaiting hand. With a flick of his wand he cleaned her up, watching as her eyes finally opened and met his. She opened her mouth to say something, but her attention skirted away from his gaze and towards his biceps, her cheeks darkening to a deeper shade of red as she said, “You’re… you’re bleeding.”

He looked down and saw small drops of scarlet dripping down from the caverns where her crescent nails had been. “That I am,” he stated, his voice ridden with amusement. With another slight swish of his wand, he cleared the crimson off his skin before setting his wand down on his bedside table. He bit down on his lip, watching her as her eyes threatened to close again, exhaustion washing over her worn-out body. “I sure hope that silencing spell worked.”

“Merlin, I hate you.”

“Shut up, Hendrix,” he chuckled, pulling her towards him until her back was pressed against his chest and he could lazily swing an arm around her waist, holding her tightly to his warmth. She didn’t object and he felt her body ease against him, relaxing into his embrace before he snapped his fingers and the covers tugged out and slowly draped over them, enveloping their bodies in the warmth of the blankets and each other’s touch. 

As she quickly felt sleep wash over her, she dozed off to the feeling of his fingers running up and down along her hips and the smell of cologne, parchment, and fire.


	35. Chapter 35

Avalon could see a dim green glow through her closed eyelids, the subtle light of the Great Lake casting an eerie hue over the entire room. The air was thick with the smell of sweat, cologne, and fire. She shifted slightly, but her eyes shot open when she felt the arm draped around her pull her closer. 

The ring on his finger, the green sheets, the pile of discarded clothes on the floor…

Memories of the night prior flooded her mind.

_ Oh,  _ **_fuck_ ** _.  _

She quickly scrambled to her feet, a pit of nausea in her stomach as she began frantically searching the room for her clothes. Her eyes darted to the clock on the wall: 4:35 a.m.

_ Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.  _

There was a dull ache all throughout her body. Her legs, arms, neck, thighs… everything was sore. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror atop his desk and took in a sharp breath when she saw her reflection staring back at her-- dark purple bruises littered every inch of her tender skin. 

She had to pry her stare away from the mirror before her fingers latched onto her underwear and hastily yanked them up her legs. 

“Going somewhere?” 

She jumped at his voice, her hands instinctively bolting up to cover her exposed chest. Her head felt as though it was going to explode as her cheeks began to burn red with her own racing nerves. 

She couldn’t look at him. 

She couldn’t meet his sleep-ridden eyes. She couldn’t look at his perfectly disheveled raven hair. She couldn’t watch him as he groggily sat up in his bed, stretching his arms out above him as his blankets covered his lower half. 

_ Fuck _ .

There was a slight smile on his lips when he looked at the way she was covering herself up. He chuckled. “Are we shy now?”

He felt her eyes finally burn into him. When he lifted his gaze to meet hers, he expected to see her reflecting his humor-- instead, he was greeted with equal parts horror and anger. He registered the regret in her eyes and instantly felt something twist in his heart. The humor in his voice quickly faded to irritated confusion. “What are you doing, Hendrix?”

“What the fuck did we do,” she breathlessly said, her voice just barely over a whisper as she hurriedly bunched the fabric of her gown and began stepping into it. She turned her back toward the mirror, grappling at the zipper furiously and pulling it up as far as she could reach, but no matter how hard she tugged, she couldn’t get it to rise past the scar on her back.

_ TRAITOR _ .

She was a fucking traitor. 

His eyes narrowed on her scrambling figure and he quickly summoned fresh clothes into his outstretched hand, slipping on a pair of black boxer-briefs and trousers before he got out of his bed and cautiously made his way over toward her. 

“This was a mistake,” she rambled to herself, her eyes avoiding his as she shakily grabbed her wand off of the floor. Her mind swam with visions of Fred… Hermione… Remus… Tonks… 

Harry… 

She thought about what Harry would think of her if he knew what she had just done. He would  _ never _ forgive her. And she wouldn’t fucking blame him. What had she done?

“We shouldn’t have done that.”

What had she fucking done?

Her heartbeat resided in the back of her throat as she shook her head, a mortified look in her eyes as she stared at the ground before her. The trembling in her fingers was more prevalent than ever before, and he didn’t understand what had shifted between the night prior and the morning. 

He didn’t understand it, but he knew he didn’t like it. 

An endless slew of profanities slipped out of her lips as she grumbled over and over to herself how they had made a huge mistake. Hearing her panicked rambling, his lighthearted demeanor shifted before her eyes, replaced with the version of himself that she had forgotten about last night: the version that broke her arm in a duel, the version that pressed a knife into her back, the version that became the monster that killed everyone she loved.

The  _ worst _ version of himself. 

“I shouldn’t have-”

“It was only sex, Hendrix,” he shrugged, his voice laced with venom. “Nothing more.”

She didn’t know why, but the words hurt to hear. 

“I-”

“We’ve discussed this before. Things like this are purely physical to me. Did you think you were an exception? That you were special? Different? Or that it meant something?” he said with a cold laugh. “I thought you were smarter than that.”

Her face fell. He pushed the growing feeling of guilt out of his mind, but couldn’t stop himself from balling his fists. The feigned smile on his lips was a harrowing contrast to the way his knuckles were growing white from agitation. 

Her voice was frail and her eyes glued to the floor when she muttered, “I can’t believe I fell for this…”

“If you’re so upset,” he said, walking to the door and opening it. “Then get out.”

She had never-- not even when he threw a knife to her head-- looked at him with so much disgust before as she did when she snarled, “I knew I was right about you.” 

He was able to shove the sting of her words to the back of his mind, keeping his eyes cold and emotionless as he watched her grab her shoes off the floor and storm out of his room, avoiding his eyes as she darted down the hallway, desperate to get as far away from him as quickly as possible. 

He closed the door behind him and was suddenly left to face the deafening silence on his own. He paced around the suddenly suffocating room, tugging at the roots of his hair. A burst of rage coursed through his body and he swiped an arm across his desk, sending the contents crashing to the ground in a fit of anger. Only two items remained, as if mocking him: the bloody coin Dumbledore had given him and his mirror. His goddamn fucking mirror.

The vision of his own reflection caught his eye. 

The sight disgusted him. 

All he saw was a fool. 

A fool who had let his guard down. A fool who had allowed someone to make him vulnerable. A fool who had forgotten his own gospel: love is weakness. 

Avalon bolted down the hallway, trying not to stumble over her own feet as she ran towards the Slytherin common room. She had to get out of there. She had to get away from  _ him _ .

Her mind was swamped with so many intrusive thoughts that she was horrified to listen to the voices in her own head. 

_ You’re a traitor.  _

_ A traitor to your friends. A traitor to your morals. A traitor to everything you claim to stand for.  _

_ A traitor to yourself.  _

**_Shut up._ **

_ A fucking traitor.  _

She furiously wiped at the tears in her eyes, shaking her head at her own goddamn stupidity. 

Before she could make it to the exit, the door swung open, and in waltzed a dazed-looking Orion, his footsteps coming to a sudden halt when his eyes landed on his own Yule Ball date. 

“Ava?” he asked before grumbling under his breath, “Fuck, I was going to tell the boys I was with you.” Slowly, confusion washed over his features. “Wait, wait, wait…” He looked her up and down, his eyes widening at the sight of her crumpled dress, bruised skin, and messy hair. A smile found its way onto his lips as he blurted out, “Did you just sleep with someon-”

She quickly ran to him and covered his mouth with her hand before he could finish his sentence. The proximity finally let him see the angry tears in her distraught eyes. She could feel his smile fade beneath her touch and he gently moved her hand away from his mouth. “Who-” he began to say, cutting himself off as his eyes trailed to the bite marks on her neck and a look of realization found its way into his gaze. “Really? Riddle?” 

“Will you  _ please _ shut it?” she groaned. “You’re going to wake up the whole dormitory.”

“Alright, alright, follow me,” he sighed, taking her hand and leading her towards his room. “Nott told me he was going to spend the night with Rosalie...” he chuckled a bit to himself. “Poor bloke thought you and I might want to use our room. Little did he know-”

“Orion, shut up,” she grumbled, walking into his dorm. Though, his sudden silence had nothing to do with her request, and everything to do with the way his eyes finally landed on the scar on her back. He opened his mouth to speak, his eyes wide with horror, when she cut him off. “I’ve had it for ages, don’t worry.”

“So he didn’t-”

“No,” she said. “But he’s still a bloody prick.”

“Well, that much I knew,” he said. “But, I thought you two were starting to be on better terms as of late…”

“I don’t bloody know what happened,” she grumbled. “After you left, he asked me to dance and-”

“Riddle asked you to dance?” he asked, his eyes widening in both shock and amusement.

“Yes, and then he was actually being almost pleasant and-”

“Well, that’s progress, I suppose… I mean, if you think about it-” She shot him a glare and he stopped talking. “Sorry, continue.”

“And I just sort of panicked so I left… I grabbed a flask from Mulciber on my way out and went to the Astronomy Tower and had a few drinks before he came up-”

“Mulciber did?”

“No, Riddle-”

“Oh, okay.”

“Orion,” she sighed. “Shut up.”

“Right, sorry.”

“Anyway, Riddle came up and we talked a bit and I yelled at him a little-”

His brows furrowed. “About?”

“A lot of things. He deserved it all, though.”

“I’m sure,” he grinned.

“And then he brought me to his room and gave me a sobering potion and I drank it and we fought a little more and then… I don’t bloody know. One thing led to the next and…”

“And now you have bite marks on your neck,” he chuckled, earning a slap across his arm. “I’m having trouble seeing the problem here.”

“The problem is that it should have never happened! I can’t believe I was so  _ stupid! _ ” she exclaimed, burying her head in her hands. 

“So,” he began, trying to wrap his head around the situation. “Do you regret it?”

“Yes,” she said confidently before a look of doubt appeared in her eyes. “No? I don’t know. I should. He made it very clear that it meant nothing to him.”

“He did?” he asked. “I mean… did you tell him you regretted it?”

She rubbed the back of her neck and sighed. “It was a mistake and I told him so.”

“Merlin, Ava,” he groaned, burying his head in his hands as he shook his head. “Was this before or after he said it meant nothing?”

“I mean…”

“Avalon…”

“Before,” she admitted sheepishly. “It was sort of the first thing I said when I woke up.”

As she watched his face contort into a look of disbelief, she wished more than anything that she could fully explain to him her dilemma. She wanted to tell him everything: all of it. About Tom, about her, about the Horcruxes, about her mission, about why she was here… but she knew she couldn’t. So, she was forced to keep her mouth shut and listen.

“Can I speak candidly?” he asked.

“By all means.”

“I do care for you, you know that right?” 

“Out with it,” she sighed.

“Ninety-nine out of a hundred times, I believe you are the most intelligent person in the room... though, I do believe in this instance, you’re acting like a fool.” She opened her mouth to protest and he quickly kept talking. “I mean, how did you  _ think _ he was going to react? Any lad would have had a meltdown if the girl they just bed immediately woke up and started going off about how much of a mistake the night had been… but this wasn’t just any lad. You shagged Tom bloody Riddle!”

As much as she wanted to argue with him, she couldn’t shake the memory of the lazy smile Riddle had on his lips when he had first woken up that morning… perhaps she had killed his playfulness with her sharp words, though she hardly thought the course of events was entirely her fault.

“You should have heard the things he said to me, though,” she grumbled. “They were purposely cruel. He was speaking with the intent to hurt me.”

“What  _ exactly _ did he say?”

“To quote him perfectly, he said  _ ‘Did you think you were an exception? That you were special? Different? Or that it meant something?’”  _ she frowned, shaking her head. “Am I wrong for thinking that was a bit too far?”

“I do admit that your reaction seems far more justified now,” he started. She opened her mouth to speak but he kept talking and said, “Though, I will say… for two of the brightest students at this school, neither one of you excels at communication.”

“But-”

“No buts! I’m right and you know it. Let me revel in it, for once,” he grinned. She rolled her eyes, an irritated pout on her lips that made him chuckle at the sight. “Merlin, you are so stubborn. No wonder he’s drawn to you-- you’re one and the same.”

“Why does everyone keep bloody saying that!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in exasperation. 

His laughter echoed through the room, but the sound calmed her nerves. She slowly began to ease back into her usual self, the earlier events fading from her mind. Suddenly, she narrowed her eyes on Orion. “Hold on… where were you last night?”

A sheepish smile found its way onto his lips and he shrugged. “Clara’s roommate spent the night with her date so I was able to spend the night in the Hufflepuff dormitory.”

“Cheeky boy,” she smirked, watching as his face flushed a rosy pink.

“Oh, hush. We’re not forgetting you’re the one who looks like they just got attacked by a pack of werewolves!” His eyes lingered on the lone bite mark on her neck when he added, “And one vampire.”

“Don’t remind me,” she groaned. “I don’t know how I’m going to hide these. Zelda is going to go berserk when she sees me like this.”

His eyes lit up. “Oh, allow me to do the honors.” It was as though he had been waiting for an opportunity to finally show off his talents as he fished his wand out of his pocket and pointed it at her, muttering a slew of quiet concealing spells as the purple marks on her skin slowly faded to nothingness. 

“Woah…”

“I’ve gotten quite good at that,” he grinned. “Incredible the things you learn when you have to hide your relationship from the rest of the world.”

“You’re a gem,” she said, smiling as she began walking towards his door. “I should probably head back to my room before the rest of the castle wakes up… Thank you. For everything… as usual.”

He made his way behind her, gently pulling her zipper all the way up before saying, “I will see you before we all leave for the winter break, right?”

“I’ll actually be staying here, but will make sure to see you off,” she offered.

“You won’t be going home for the holidays?” he asked, raising his brows in surprise. 

She shook her head, quickly coming up with a lie. “No, my aunt thought it was safer to stay at Hogwarts rather than go see her this year… you know, with the war and all.”

He nodded, seeming to buy the excuse. “I wish you’d told me sooner, I would have arranged with my parents to have you come to our home.”

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I have business I should take care of here, regardless,” she said, her mind straying back to her mission: find the Horcruxes... destroy them… kill him.

No more distractions.

He chuckled, interrupting her thoughts.

“What’s so funny?” she asked, her lips turning into a slight scowl.

“Nothing,” he grinned. “I just hope that business includes spending time with a certain dark-haired Prefect, because he’s the only other student who will be here over the break.”

She felt her heart sink into her stomach. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“For your sake, I almost wish I was,” he cackled. “But, no. He spends most of winter break at Hogwarts every year. Lestrange and Rosier have tried to convince him to go home with them, but he always declines. Says he likes the peace of the empty castle.” He paused for a moment, trying to hold back his laughter. “Something tells me it won’t be too peaceful for him this year, though.”

“You said most of his break?” she asked, trying to see if there would be any point of solitude for her. It didn’t matter how big the castle was-- she still felt as though it were too small to contain the two of them alone for nearly an entire month. 

He nodded. “Yeah, we all spend the last few days of the year at Nott’s, it’s a tradition. His family and mine go off to Spain together for New Year’s and they let us stay back and celebrate all together.” He paused for a moment before adding, “It’s also Riddle’s birthday, but he never lets us do anything for that.”

“That sounds quite lovely,” she said.

It appeared as though a lightbulb went off in his mind as he gasped and said, “You should come this year!”

“I’m not going to intrude on-”

“You’d hardly be intruding… Mulciber brings a new girl every year. It’s not like this is a particularly exclusive invite,” he chuckled. “And, plus, I’d love to have you there, as will Rosalie, I’m sure.”

“Xavier and Tom would be less than thrilled,” she pointed out.

“To hell with them,” he shrugged. “I want you there. And I happen to be closer with Nott, anyway, so they can shove it.”

“I’ll think about it,” she said, knowing he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

“Good,” he smiled, opening the door for her. “I’ll see you later, then.”

“I’ll see you,” she nodded before running off to make it back to her room. 

Orion watched as her figure slipped off into the shadows and waited until he heard the common room door close, signaling she had fully left the Slytherin dormitories with no problem before he sighed and made his way over towards Riddle’s room. 

He paused outside for a moment, taking in a deep breath, and then knocked on the door and waited a few seconds before Riddle opened it up, a look of agitation on his face as he registered Avery at the entrance. “I’m busy,” he said, starting to close the door in Avery’s face.

The blond stuck his foot into the doorframe, preventing it from closing. “I need to talk to you,” he said. When he saw no change in the irritation on Riddle’s face, he added, “It’s about Avalon.”

Reluctantly, Tom opened the door back up and motioned for Orion to come inside.

The first thing Avery noticed was the scattered items that had been thrown onto the floor around Riddle’s desk.

_ Odd _ , Orion thought to himself.  _ Riddle’s room was always kept in pristine shape.  _

Riddle was wearing a long sleeve black sweater, but when he turned his back towards Avery, Orion noticed the beginnings of scratch marks peeking out from above the collar. 

_ Merlin, Ava… _

Tom turned back around, facing Orion as he leaned against his bedpost and prompted, “Well?”

“She told me what happened,” Avery said, pausing a moment before he added, “All of it.”

Tom had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. “If you’re here to lecture me, you can fuck off.”

Avery let out an exasperated sigh. “God, Riddle… I defended you ten minutes ago and I’m already regretting it.” He saw Tom’s brows furrow and said. “Didn’t expect that? Honestly, I didn’t either.”

“She-”

“I know,” Orion chuckled. “Believe me… I know. And I understand that her reaction was...” he paused, choosing his words carefully, “...less than stellar. But, we both know that she’s been through hell and back. I can’t imagine it’s quite easy for her to open up to people nowadays. There’s no need for you to make her hurt more than she already has.” He sighed, shaking his head. “I truly believe that there is a part of you that cares for her, and her for you, but, Merlin, are you two terrible at expressing it…”

Tom stared blankly at him, an unamused look in his eyes. “Are you quite done?”

Orion rolled his eyes and strode back to the door, grumbling out a few choice words as he put his hand on the doorknob. Before he left he turned to Tom and said, “Just… don’t fuck this up more than you already have,” he said, a smile finding its way onto his lips when he added, “And don’t worry. You have an entire month alone in the castle with her to fix this,” then exiting the room and closing the door after him, leaving behind the mortified Prefect and his hanging jaw. 


	36. Chapter 36

“I feel like I’m forgetting something,” Zelda grumbled, reviewing her list for the hundredth time. “Merlin, what am I forgetting?”

“This, perhaps,” Avalon chuckled, holding out her roommate’s wand. 

“Oh,” Zelda said with wide eyes as she took a hold of it and shoved it into her coat pocket. “Right.”

Their dorm looked rather bare. Most of Zelda’s things were neatly packed away into her two suitcases, leaving only the empty remnants of what would remain in the room over the month-long holiday. Avalon tried to bite down her quickly budding sense of dread for the lonely break that was to come, instead plastering on a smile as she watched her friend close her suitcase. 

The day prior had been spent helping Zelda make sure that she wasn’t forgetting any books, coats, shoes, scarves, or other necessities. Thankfully, when Avalon had returned from her night at the Slytherin dormitory, she had been greeted with an empty room. When Zelda eventually returned from her girlfriend’s dorm, Avalon had already been given a chance to change out of her gown and clean up, sparing her from having to explain her night to her roommate. 

She had tried not to think about the night she had spent with Riddle-- there was no need to dwell on the past… it was over. The mistake had been made and there was nothing she could do about it anymore. But, it was hard to not think about him when every time she closed her eyes, she was taken back to the feeling of his lips on her skin. 

She hated it. She hated how she couldn’t stop thinking about him, she hated how she kept blaming herself for how he had acted the next morning, and she hated how much it hurt to replay his words over and over in her head.

She hated herself for being so… weak. 

Zelda’s voice finally broke her out of her self-loathing thoughts. “Are you sure you don’t want to come home with me for the holidays? I’m sure my family would be thrilled to meet you. I’ve written to them about you so many times, they’d be more than happy-”

“Don’t you worry about me, I’ll be fine here,” Avalon smiled, cutting her off. “But, thank you for the offer. I’ll miss you over the break.”

“I’ll make sure to write,” Zelda promised. “I’ll be back before you know it!”

“Can’t wait,” Avalon chimed in. She got off her bed and watched as her roommate tapped her wand onto her suitcases, levitating them behind her and making her way to the door, her luggage following close behind. 

The two girls quickly scrambled to make it to the edge of the castle grounds where thestral-drawn carriages were lined up, boarding students and taking them to the Hogwarts Express. Everywhere they looked, there were countless students all piling into the carriages, smiling and waving to their friends and classmates as they left for the holiday break. The air was alive with the joy of the winter recess, but Avalon couldn’t help but feel a pit of emptiness in her stomach as she watched her peers be drawn away from the castle in the comfort of their carriages.

“I’m going to miss you loads,” Zelda pouted before outstretching her arms. 

Avalon entered her embrace and gave her a tight hug. “It’s only one month! I’ll see you soon. Have the best break, alright?”

“You, too!” she smiled, releasing Avalon before flicking her wand towards a carriage and watching as her luggage piled in. Shortly after, she hopped in as well and joined a group of other Ravenclaws as they boarded the vessel. As the thestrals began pulling the cart forward, Zelda waved towards Avalon and called out, “See you in the new year, lovey!”

Avalon waved back, smiling and watching as her roommate’s carriage was drawn further and further away until it became nothing more than a small speck in the distance. Afterward, she returned her attention to the remaining carriages, her eyes scanning the area for Orion.

She spotted him a few moments later, standing with Axel and Rosalie not too far away. Hurriedly, she ran over. Orion’s ocean eyes landed on her as she approached him and his face lit up with his ever-present smile. “There she is!” he grinned, wrapping her in a tight hug as soon as she reached arms-length. “I didn’t think I was going to see you before we left.”

“I promised I’d see you off!” she said, pulling away to see his smiling face once more. “I had to say goodbye before you all left.”

“Avalon,” Rosalie interjected. “Orion told us you’re going to be joining us for New Year’s!”

Avalon shot Orion a pointed glare, which he quickly averted his eyes from, and she stuttered out, “I mean, I was thinking about it… If it’s alright with Axel-”

“Please come,” Rosalie begged. “It would be so lovely to finally have a girl there… one that I know. No offense to Demitri’s dates,” she sighed. 

“We’d love to have you,” Axel added. “Rosie could barely contain her excitement when Orion told us.”

“It’s true!” Rosalie said, bouncing up and down. “Tell us you’ll come, please!”

A smile found its way onto Avalon’s lips and she nodded. “That would be lovely. Thank you for the invite.”

“Wicked,” Orion grinned. 

Avalon opened her mouth to speak when she caught a glimpse of Lestrange, Mulciber, and Rosier heading towards the carriage. “I should get going,” she quickly said, not particularly in the mood to deal with an interaction with Lestrange. “I’ll see you all towards the end of the year. Have a lovely break!”

The three Seventh Years all said their goodbyes and waved her off before she began darting toward the castle once more. Xavier’s eyes caught hers just as she turned, a dark hatred embedded into his green stare. The deep circles beneath his gaze had not faded since  _ that _ night. He looked like an entirely different person. 

It sent a shudder down her spine, but she looked away and kept walking.

As Orion watched Avalon make her way back toward the castle, he suddenly felt a tight grasp on his arm and was quickly dragged off to the side, away from the rest of the group. “What the hell, mate,” he grumbled, narrowing his eyes at Tom as he pulled him towards a less crowded area. “You’ve got a grip of steel, you know?”

Tom finally let go of him when they were far from earshot of the rest of the group. The Prefect looked tired, as though he hadn’t slept the night before, and his eyes avoided Avery’s as he fidgeted before him, uncharacteristically nervous. “Let’s say I wanted to fix things with Hendrix… How would I go about doing that?”

Orion couldn’t bite back the smile that crept upon his lips. “Well, well-”

“I asked you a question, Avery,” he snapped. 

Orion chuckled quietly to himself. “You have to apologize to her.”

Tom stared at him blankly for a moment, as if waiting for the punchline. When Avery just raised his eyebrows, Tom grumbled out, “You’re no bloody help,” and began walking away. 

“Hey!” Avery called out, grabbing him by the arm. “You asked for my help, and I gave it!”

Tom rolled his eyes and shrugged Avery’s hand off of him, a look of distaste on his face as he stood there for a moment, trying to fight the urge to argue with the smug blond before him. “What am I even supposed to say?”

“Merlin, have you never apologized to anyone before?” Avery asked, shaking his head in disbelief. “You have to acknowledge that what you did was wrong.”

“What did I bloody do?!” Tom asked, his volume rising. 

“What did you do? I don’t know. Maybe it’s the fact that you basically called her worthless after you two slept together,” he said, throwing his arms up in frustration. “Girls don’t like that sort of thing, mate!”

“She’s the one who said we made a mistake. Was I supposed to just stand there?”

“You could have had a normal bloody conversation about it. You know, like us regular people,” Orion said. Tom opened his mouth to speak, but Orion cut him off and kept going. “I know what she said hurt you-”

“It didn’t hurt me,” Tom objected, scoffing.

Avery raised an eyebrow at him and the two stared at each other for a moment before he rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say. But the point is, you two both have things to apologize for. One of you has to initiate it. I suggest that it be you.” He glanced towards the carriage when he heard Nott calling out for him to join them before it departed. “I have to go. I promise you, it’s not as difficult as you’re making it seem.” He began to walk towards the carriage, waving to Tom as he left. “Have a nice break!”

\-------

Avalon awoke to the sound of her own screams. 

She bolted upright in bed, her breathing short, choppy, and frantic as she came to terms with the darkness around her. 

Three days. Three whole fucking days had passed and she’d been able to get no bloody sleep. Every single night, she woke up in a pool of her own sweat after her nightmares took a toll on her. Being alone in her room without Zelda had opened her up to a world of terrible night time thoughts, and finding peace in the silence had proven to be impossible for her. 

Her eyes stung from how exhausted she was, but falling back asleep after waking up was something she knew wasn’t going to happen. So, as she had the nights prior, she groggily pulled her wand out from underneath her pillow and begrudgingly flicked it towards the ceiling, squinting her eyes as the lights above her turned on. 

She stared at the wall for a while, her head throbbing from her lack of proper sleep, but eventually reached out and grabbed a book from her nightstand. She sat up in bed and began reading through the pages about Fiendfyre, tapping her fingers on her bedframe the entire time to create some sort of noise. 

In the past few days, she had spent a decent amount of time ensuring that she learned everything she could about the spell that she thought could destroy Riddle’s Horcruxes. The more she studied, the more confident she became that the dark flames could, indeed, do what she needed them to do. 

She still found herself feeling rather sick while reading about it. 

Any time she focused on her mission-- of killing Riddle-- she grew nauseous. And it killed her to admit that. 

On the night of the Yule Ball, she had thought that she saw hints of humanity in him… parts of him that had not yet been corrupted by the darkness that would one day consume him. She saw light, she saw warmth, she saw… Tom.

But, she knew that she was wrong.

He was horrible-- rude, cruel, self-absorbed, and beyond redemption. 

He was dangerous.

He was going to become the darkest wizard that ever lived.

So, why did she still feel so guilty about completing her task? 

It was naive of her to want to believe he could harbor anything more than darkness within him-- she knew that. But, still, a part of her was trying so desperately to see the good in him… and that was dangerous. 

She knew that she had to do it… she had to kill him. She couldn’t give up-- not now. The lives of too many of her loved ones depended on her being able to successfully carry out this job. But, she couldn’t shake the devil on her shoulder that kept telling her she was doing a bad thing. 

Differentiating right from wrong was growing to be increasingly difficult these days. 

She hadn’t seen him at all the past few days. It appeared running into someone in an empty castle was actually rather difficult, which she was actually quite grateful for. Though, even without having to see him, he was constantly on her mind.

She couldn’t stop thinking about him-- about his touch, his lips, his eyes, his smile. 

_ Traitor _ .

_ You’re a fucking traitor.  _

She took in a deep breath, burying her head in her hands. 

_ You need to get your head on straight,  _ she thought to herself.  _ Stop letting him distract you. _

_ But what if- _

**_No_ ** _. _

_ No more distractions. _

She was constantly arguing with herself-- trying to fight her own urge to defend Riddle. But, no matter how hard she tried to shake the feeling, she kept wondering if there was a part of him that was still worth saving. 

And that was her greatest weakness. 

Hours passed by as she stared at the pages of the book in her lap, reading and rereading the same lines over and over until the sun’s delicate rays began to invade the room through her window. 

This had been her routine the past several days: wake up, read, waste time until morning. 

It was a routine she was quickly growing tired of. 

Reluctantly, she put the book back on her nightstand and climbed out of bed. She rubbed furiously at her eyes, trying to wake herself up, but nothing could ward the fatigue that was eating away at her. 

She felt like a zombie. Her body was sluggish, her mind uneasy, and her nerves on edge. Still, she put on fresh clothes and began stumbling out of her room, lugging herself towards the Great Hall. 

It was eerie to see the castle so empty. She hadn’t been alone in ages-- ever since the war, she had spent every waking moment of her life cramped in a safe house with other members of the Order. Solitude was a thing of the past for her-- to suddenly be trapped in her own isolation was unsettling. 

The hallways howled with the somber song of the wind, cold December air blowing through the open corridors as she made her way towards the promise of breakfast. The Great Hall was, unsurprisingly, just as empty as the rest of the castle. 

Quietly, she made her way over to Ravenclaw’s table-- not that it mattered much where she sat-- and she watched as a plate of blueberry-lemon scones appeared before her. She smiled to herself, knowing Tossy and Bonsey were likely responsible for the sudden influx of her favorite breakfast treat, before grabbing one and silently eating. 

She took her time, spending almost half an hour eating her scone with a side of creamed coffee. But, finally, she decided it was time to go back to her room, to her task. She took one last sip of her drink and walked out of the Hall. 

The sound of footsteps caught her off guard. 

She saw him down the corridor, making his way toward the Great Hall… and she hated how she felt her heart flutter at the sight of him. 

She hated how seeing him made her feel less alone. She hated how knowing he was there eased her nerves. 

She hated how she didn’t hate him. 

Before she could register what she was even doing, she quickly turned around and ran towards the stairwell, suddenly desperate to get away from him. She could hear him call out her name, but she didn’t bother to turn around. All she could do was let her legs carry her towards the one place she thought could clear her mind… to the one thing that she knew could remind her what was at stake-- she began running to the Room of Requirement. 

She needed to see the Mirror of Erised again.

Tom watched her as she bolted away. 

She sure had a habit of running away from him, he thought bitterly. 

A part of him had wanted to take Avery’s advice and apologize to her, though he still didn’t think he was the one that should be apologizing. But, when he saw her, he had forgotten what he had wanted to say.

She looked a mess… 

Her hazel eyes were bloodshot--deep dark circles residing beneath them-- and her movements were lethargic. It was clear she hadn’t been sleeping much, if at all. 

He instantly thought of the nightmare she’d had when they’d been studying together in the Room of Requirement. She couldn’t sleep alone, she had told him.

The thought of her being alone in her room dealing with nightly terrors made him uneasy. 

The thought of her having to face the silence on her own made him uneasy. 

The thought of her hating him for any of the pain he had caused her made him uneasy.

He took in a deep breath before he ran after her. 

Meanwhile, Avalon watched as the entrance to the Room of Requirement appeared before her. She wasted no time shoving the door open and clambering in, closing the entrance behind her before whipping around and seeing the tall golden mirror nestled in the corner of the room.

Her feet carried her forward with raw desperation. She needed to be reminded of why she was here. She needed to see her friends and family in that bloody reflection and remember what was at stake. She needed to finally be given a chance to clear her mind and be reminded of the reasons why she couldn’t fail at her mission. 

So, she stood before the mirror and looked at the scene in front of her, desperate to see the same thing she had seen the last time: herself surrounded by her friends as she loomed over Riddle’s body.

But, her eyes immediately filled with tears when she saw what stared back.

There were her friends… Fred, George, Luna, Harry, Ron, Hermione… 

There were her loved ones… her aunt, Remus, Tonks, Molly, Arthur, Kingsley… 

There she was… surrounded by all of them, smiling, laughing. Happy.

But, there  _ he _ was. Standing amid the crowd with her. Holding her hand. 

There he was…  _ alive _ . 

She felt her knees give way as she fell down to the ground, her body weak and her mind in full-blown panic. 

“No, no, no,” she quietly muttered to herself, shaking her head frantically as she stared at the mirror. 

_ Traitor _ .

She couldn’t pry her eyes away from the mirror no matter how hard she tried. It felt impossible to stop looking at the image of her and Tom holding each other’s hands, surrounded by everyone she cared for. 

He was the reason so many of them were dead. 

_ Traitor _ .

He was the reason she was here.

_ Traitor _ .

He was the reason for all the pain.

_ Traitor _ .

But she had allowed him to sneak his way into her mind-- into her heart-- and distract her from her own god damn mission. 

She felt tears streaming down her face and choked gasps leaving her mouth as she sobbed out her frustrations. As much as she had tried to ignore it, she knew that she couldn’t kill him. 

Not now. Not anymore. 

She couldn’t. And she knew that she was betraying all of her loved ones by letting her weakness win, but she couldn’t help that she didn’t hate him. No… she didn’t hate him at all. 

_ Traitor _ .

Her fingers shakily took her wand out of her coat. 

This was the only way… 

She stared at the wand in her hand, her eyes brimming with more tears as her fingers began to shake uncontrollably. Slowly, she lifted the wand to her temple.

If forgetting all the good things about Tom Riddle was the only way she could get back to her mission, then this is what she had to do… 

She took in a deep breath, hot tears pouring out of her eyes as she shut her eyes and tried to focus.

The entrance to the Room slammed open. 

“ _ Oblivia- _ ”

“Avalon!”


	37. Chapter 37

Tom shoved the door of the Room of Requirement open.

“ _Oblivia-_ ”

 _Fuck_.

“Avalon!”

He didn’t have time to think. His wand pointed towards her and he quickly disarmed her before she could finish casting her own spell. 

Her wand flew towards him and he caught it in mid-air, his eyes wide and frantic as he looked at the broken girl before him. Tears were streaming from her bloodshot eyes, her entire body trembling as she watched her wand fly out of her grasp and into his. 

She shakily held her hand up and he felt the wand desperately trying to slip out of his fingers, but he gripped it even tighter, refusing to let her summon it back into her grasp. 

“Give me my wand, Tom,” she demanded, though her voice was frail and shaky. He hated seeing her like that.

“What the bloody hell were you thinking?!” he asked.

“I said give me my fucking wand, Tom!” she yelled, storming over towards him, eyes alight with fury and pain.

He quickly shoved it into the inside pocket of his coat before she reached him. “You were trying to Obliviate yourself?!” 

She didn’t say anything, avoiding his eyes as she tried to grasp it back. Her hands pounded angrily against his chest but he caught her wrists before she could even attempt to reach her wand. 

“Let me go!” she sobbed, thrashing violently against his hold. 

“Do you even realize how dangerous that is, Avalon?! You could have wiped your entire mind clean!” 

When her eyes met his, they were burning with such a fervent animosity. The weight of her hatred felt as though it could tear a knife through his heart. But, there was something else in her eyes that he hadn’t seen before…

It was uncertainty… hesitation… doubt.

The feeling of his skin scorching with an intense pain quickly drew him out of his thoughts, though. 

She channeled all of her energy into making her skin unbearably hot to touch, though he bit back the pain and held onto her. Her words were laced with venom when she snarled, “Let-”

“Avalon-”

“Me-”

“Stop it-”

“Go.”

A sharp hiss left his mouth as he bit down on his bottom lip, trying to not focus on the immense pain shooting through his skin. He felt his vision start to become hazy, his hands trembling as his flesh blazed at her touch, but slowly, he shifted his grasp so he could place her hands over his heart. “Avalon… please,” he pleaded. 

She struggled against his hold for a few more moments, but when she felt his heartbeat through his sweater, he watched as the resolve in her eyes slowly broke. 

He let out a sigh of relief as he began to feel the burning of her skin die down, his breathing steadying as the pain rushed out of his system. But, the hurt he felt from the spell could never have prepared him for the way his heart sank when he saw her body crumple down before him, sobs overtaking her trembling figure as she dropped to her knees and cried. 

“Damn you,” she kept repeating over and over as she buried her head in her hands, tugging at the ends of her hair. “Damn it!”

“What is your problem?” he shouted. “You hate me so much that you want to forget what happened entirely?!” He let out an angry scoff, shaking his head. “I came here to try and apologize to you, Avalon! I came here to fucking apologize, and you do that?!”

“Stop it!” she blurted out, wiping furiously at the tears on her cheeks. 

“Stop what?!”

“Stop acting like you give a fuck about me when just last week you looked at me like I was nothing! Now you’re here ruining everything! Stop! Stop fucking with my head, Riddle!” 

“As if you haven’t been fucking with my head?!” he shouted back, his eyes darkening. “Are you kidding me? What was I supposed to make out of you waking up and calling me a mistake?! A fucking _mistake_ , Avalon!”

“It _was_ a mistake! One that we should both forge-”

“You don’t get to fucking make that choice, okay?! You don’t get to decide to take this away from me!” he shouted, his clenched fists trembling. “You don’t get to wake up and decide that you don’t want to remember me anymore, because even if you forget, I _can’t_!”

She felt her breath hitch in her throat as she watched him pace back and forth, his hand buried in his raven hair as he tried to calm his own nerves. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. 

They sat in silence for a moment before he spoke again, his words shaky when he said, “And I’m fucking sorry that you want to! But I _don’t_. And I can’t have you take away the one thing that I have ever cared for!”

_The one thing that I have ever cared for._

The words echoed in her mind over and over again as she stared at him, her heart racing faster than it had ever in her life.

He cared.

He apologized.

She met his eyes and she saw remorse, fear… humanity. 

He was _changing_. 

And no matter what her brain was telling her, her heart had already begun to care for him. She couldn’t deny it any longer-- there was no point. Despite all odds, Tom Riddle had found a way to invade her heart. 

And she hated herself for allowing it to happen, but she didn’t hate it for happening… she didn’t hate him. 

He knelt down beside her, his eyes searching hers for any sign of emotion. He looked nervous-- maybe even scared-- as he gently took her hands back into his and sighed. “Avalon, please… talk to me.”

She glanced down at his hands holding hers. For a moment, he thought she was going to pull away. But, seconds passed and she didn’t move so he slowly laced his fingers with hers and rubbed circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. 

Her bottom lip quivered as she tried to form words, failing miserably. She didn’t know what she could say. She didn’t know how she was supposed to look someone in the eyes knowing that she was there to kill him. 

She couldn’t kill him… 

But she had to.

Unless, there was another way…

She didn’t know. All she knew is that he had seen the darkest parts of her, and he didn’t see them as flaws. 

He knew she had killed, he knew she had been tortured, he knew that she used Dark Magic… and he wasn’t afraid of any of it. For the first time in her life, she had found someone who wasn’t trying to _‘fix’_ her.

She didn’t have to pretend to be better than what she was around him. She didn’t have to hide her faults, as she did in the Order. She didn’t have to conceal her darkness, as she did with her friends. He let her be herself. With all her flaws, with all her faults, with all her mistakes.

He let her be true.

And as she looked at the boy before her, and the way he held onto her hand as if it were his last grasp towards salvation, she knew that there were parts of him worth saving. She couldn’t let him become the Dark Lord. She wouldn’t let him go down that path… he deserved better. He was better.

Maybe he would prove her wrong. Maybe this was just a blip in his demeanor and maybe he would wake up in a week and go back to being cruel and careless, forcing her to do what she had originally come here for. But for now, there was a chance. There was a chance that he could be saved. And, as long as there was a chance, she saw hope for him and she couldn’t ignore that. Not anymore.

Her entire life, she had been surrounded by people that were willing to fight for her… willing to die for her. And Tom had never had a single person who truly cared for him. They’d feared him, admired him, desired him, even, but none _cared_.

She wondered if maybe, just maybe, saving the future and saving him were not mutually exclusive. 

Tom let out a sigh of relief when he felt her gently squeeze his hand in return. It was weak, and it was barely noticeable, but it was enough to make him pull her into his embrace and wrap his arms around her. She melted into his chest, exhaling into his skin as she buried her head into his warmth, her shoulders still trembling as a few straggling tears fell from her eyes. Her voice was frail when she choked out, “I’m sorry-”

“I’m sorry, too,” he said, cutting her off. His hands gently rubbed her back, trying to calm her shaking figure. 

“I just-”

“I know,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head. “It’s okay.”

She broke down into tears again, but he just held her close, quietly telling her that everything would be okay. He didn’t know if he quite believed that, himself, but it felt like the right thing to say at the time. Holding her, pressing soft kisses to her forehead every once in a while, he realized that he didn’t want to see her be hurt like this. 

He wasn’t sure how it had happened, but he knew that he wanted to shield her from whatever pain he could… it was too late to save her from the things she had already endured, but he wanted to make sure that from that day forward, she would always know that she was safe. He would never let anyone hurt her. 

If they tried, they’d be dead. 

His eyes glanced up and he looked at the Mirror of Erised before him. At first, he thought it must have broken. 

All he saw was their reflection. 

But, slowly, he let out a deep exhale and pulled her closer, letting her cry into her arms for as long as she needed. They sat like that for Merlin-knows how long. It felt like hours and seconds at the same time, he really couldn’t tell. 

When she finally pulled back, her eyes were puffy and her nose red. He gently lifted his hand and used his thumb to wipe away her tears before cupping the side of her face. He couldn’t help the soft smile that found its way onto his lips when he felt her lean into his hand, closing her eyes as he softly stroked her skin. 

Slowly, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment before he pulled back just far enough to watch as her eyes fluttered open and met his. He opened his mouth to say something, but the feeling of her hand snaking around his neck and pulling him down towards her cut off his words. She pressed their lips together in a delicate kiss, one that was charged with all the words that they didn’t dare confess yet. This kiss was far different than the ones they’d shared in his dorm several nights earlier, it was desperate, still, but gentle.

He sighed into the kiss, the feeling of her soft lips against his being something he had missed dearly. 

She pulled away rather quickly, but he still held her close. He watched as she wiped at her tired eyes and took her hand into his once more. “You need rest.”

She nodded half-heartedly, too tired to object, but dreaded another nightmare-ridden, sleepless night. Slowly, he helped both of them get back to their feet, though he never let go of her hand as he led them towards the exit. 

Her feet dragged after him, stumbling wherever he took them as she quietly followed his lead. It didn’t take long for her to notice he was dragging her towards Ravenclaw Tower. He kept their fingers interlocked the entire way, giving her hand a gentle squeeze every once in a while when he noticed her eyes starting to drift off with exhaustion. 

When they reached the entrance to the common room, they stood before the large eagle door knocker. 

_“What can be broken without being held?”_

They answered at the same time.

"A promise," Tom said.

"A heart," said Avalon.

The entrance opened up for them, revealing the empty common room. She walked in, a small sigh of relief escaping her lips when she noticed him follow her in afterward. Light shone in from all the windows, the sun’s morning rays casting a heavenly glow around the ornate room. 

She reckoned she had never been quite so exhausted so early on in the day. 

The two of them wordlessly made their way towards her room. She placed her hand on the doorknob, hesitating to open it up for a moment, but finally, she twisted the handle and pushed the door, revealing her messy room. 

He looked at the piles of scattered books on the floor, unmade bed, and notes littered across her desk before he grumbled out, “Merlin…” 

“Shut up,” she muttered, shaking her head as she strode towards her bed and plopped atop it. He stood by her desk for a moment, watching as she pulled the covers over herself, unsure if she’d want him there. 

When she patted the space beside her, he tried not to show the smile that threatened to make its way onto his lips. Instead, he just pulled off his coat, folding it neatly and draping it across her desk chair before walking over and climbing into the bed, as well. She felt his arms wrap around her waist, pulling her closer until he could look her in the eyes and press a soft kiss to her forehead. “Try to get some sleep.”

And, for once, she actually listened to him and did as she was told. 

He watched as her eyes quickly drifted off to sleep, her breathing calming as her exhaustion washed over her and stole her away from him. 

She looked peaceful… with her lips slightly parted as quiet snores escaped her tiny figure. Her dark eyelashes draped across her features, leaving her in a delicate tranquility that he never wanted to disturb. 

Watching her, he realized that he had never felt this way before. 

He didn’t know exactly what it was that he was feeling, but it was inviting… and soothing… and warm.

It was unlike the cold nothingness that he had harbored within his heart from the moment he had been born. It was unlike the bitter resentment that had plagued his existence for so many years. It was unlike the hateful greed that led him to care about nothing more than himself.

Until he met her.

He felt her cuddle closer into his chest in her sleep and tightened his grip around her. He wasn’t sure if that’s what he was supposed to do. He wasn’t sure what he was ever supposed to do around her. All he knew is that whatever he was doing, he wanted to make sure he did it right. 

For her.

He wanted to do things right for her.


	38. Chapter 38

The sound of turning pages woke Avalon. Tom glanced over at her as soon as she shifted. “Sleep well?” 

She rubbed her groggy eyes, nodding and humming out a soft ‘mhm’ before she peered outside her window. The dark night sky that greeted her caused her to quickly sit upright, her eyes widening. “Bloody hell, what time is it?”

“Quarter past eight,” he answered. “You were out for quite a while.”

“Have you just been sitting here the entire time?” she asked. 

“I was reading,” he shrugged, his eyes glancing down at the book in his hands. She tried to hide the panic in her eyes when she noticed the book he had been reading was the same one she had been studying to find out about Fiendfyre. “Do you just read this casually?” 

She nervously laughed, grabbing it from him and putting it back on the nightstand. “Like I said… know thy enemy.”

“And who is your enemy?” he asked, a wry smile on his lips. 

“I’ve lost track,” she bitterly laughed. It was at that moment that she finally looked around the room and noticed how orderly everything looked. Books were neatly stacked on their shelves, her class notes were folded away, and her floor was devoid of all scattered objects. “Did you clean?”

“It looked like a war-zone,” he simply stated.

She smiled to herself for a moment before turning her body to face him. “So, what do you think of the Ravenclaw dormitories?” 

He stared at her for a moment, choosing his words carefully before he finally said, “Well it sure is… blue.”

“Oh, give me a break,” she grumbled, rolling her eyes. “You mean to tell me you prefer the Slytherin dungeons?”

“It’s personal preference, Hendrix,” he said, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“You call it personal preference… I call it being incorrect,” she said, a triumphant grin finding its way onto her lips when she saw him shake his head and drop the subject. 

“We should go have dinner soon,” Tom noted. “You haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

“Neither have you, I presume,” she pointed out as she slowly crawled out from beneath the covers, straightening her clothes when she got to her feet. She made her way towards her mirror, brushing her fingers through her hair in an attempt to straighten out the mess it had become. 

He followed in suit, walking over to her desk and grabbing his coat off her chair. His hand dug into the pocket before he pulled out her wand and extended it towards her, which she gratefully grasped. 

His eyes skirted down to her neck. “Those bruises cleared quicker than I thought they would.”

She rolled her eyes, grabbing a brush from her table as she realized her fingers weren’t going to fix the atrocity that was her hair. “Orion helped me conceal them.”

“How  _ helpful _ of him,” he said, his voice slightly irritated. She suddenly felt his arms snake around her waist, his breath tickling her ear when he whispered, “Too bad he isn’t here anymore.” She let out a startled gasp when she felt his lips press to her neck, followed by the feeling of his teeth grazing her skin. 

“Tom…” 

“Avalon…” he muttered, his breath hitting her skin.

She turned around to face him, his eyes dark with lust when she met them. “I’m hungry.”

“As am I,” he smirked, his arms looping around her once more as he pulled her close. His lips once again found a home on her neck, leaving a trail of desperate kisses as he made his way up to her jaw. 

“That’s not what I meant,” she laughed, though still, his kisses trailed further and further up until his mouth met hers in a needy kiss. She couldn’t help but feel herself melting into his arms, a smile creeping onto her lips as she kissed him back. Between breaths, she pulled away and whispered, “Tom…” kiss. “We…” kiss. “Should…” kiss. “Go.” She pulled away, though it took every bit of strength in her to do so, and grinned at the way he stared longingly at her lips. “We have a whole month for that,” she said with a wink, before walking away towards the door. He felt his breath hitch in his throat as he stood there for a moment, speechless as she looked over her shoulder, a smirk on her face. “You coming, or what?”

\--------

‘ _ Dear Z,  _

_ So… I have some interesting developments to inform you about.’ _

Avalon stared at the letter before groaning and crumpling the piece of paper, tossing it into the pile of discarded attempts that littered her floor. She knew that she would have to tell Zelda about everything going on with Riddle eventually… but how in the bloody hell was she supposed to casually write ‘ _ By the way, remember my mortal enemy? Yeah, well, he and I have spent the past three nights in one another’s beds. Hope your break is going well, miss you! _ ’

She buried her head in her hands, letting out a string of profanities before grabbing a fresh piece of paper and trying again. 

It took her nearly half an hour, but she finally managed to write out a note that she thought covered all the bases: she was having a nice break so far, she missed her roommate, and she was now spending every night with none other than Tom Riddle himself.

That about summed it up. 

She neatly folded the letter, put it in an envelope, and placed it atop her desk, making a mental note to drop it off at the Owlery later. 

A part of her dreaded the inevitable moment when she would have to hear what her roommate thought of her blossoming relationship with Riddle. She wasn’t particularly sure how Zelda would take it. It was no secret that Zelda wasn’t Riddle’s biggest fan, but she also knew that her roommate only wanted what was best for her. 

What she dreaded even more than telling Zelda, was eventually having to tell Orion. The problem with Orion wasn’t that she was afraid of what he would think, but rather that she was afraid he would be overly excited and skew her own mind towards being far too happy about something that she still wasn’t sure how to feel about. 

How was she supposed to feel about all of this?

What even was all of this, exactly?

Her and Riddle were by no means dating. No, it was much more of a mutually beneficial companionship that had formed out of unexpected chemistry, loneliness, and a hint of intrigue. While there was no denying that there was an unmistakable bond-- a certain understanding-- between them, she still wasn’t sure exactly what it was. And, she didn’t know what he thought it was, either.

She was hesitant to allow herself to get too close to him. After all, she still had to be prepared to carry out her original mission if things went south. But, for the time being, she was merely enjoying his company and trying to stay positive: perhaps she could save the future without having to kill him. The details were still a work in progress, but she was trying to come up with an alternate plan. 

She made her way over to her bed, sitting down on the edge and staring at the ceiling. There really wasn’t too much to do in the empty castle. Her usual routine was to wake up-- Riddle always by her side-- in either her own room or his, the two of them would have breakfast together, and then they would go do separate things for a while until nightfall when they would meet up once more and repeat the process. 

It seemed as though he typically went to the library after breakfast and grabbed a few books before retreating to his dorm and studying for the majority of the afternoon. She went with him a few times and got some books to read, as well, but she was growing restless being so confined in her room.

The silence. 

The damn silence was driving her mad. 

With an exasperated groan, she once again got to her feet and began pacing the perimeter of her room. Her eyes skirted towards her window. The castle grounds were a white winter wonderland, fresh snow lining the earth as far as her eyes could see. She smiled to herself, walking over to the window and pressing her hands against the glass, feeling the cold invite of the outdoors against her skin. Without wasting another moment, she strode towards her dresser, grabbing a coat, two thick sweaters, a scarf, beanie, leggings to go under her pants, boots, and gloves. She bundled herself up until she felt like a walking marshmallow, and only then did she begin to waddle out of her room and towards the Slytherin dorms. 

She made her way through the empty castle, hobbling towards the dungeons. When she arrived, she stated the password to the common room, entered, and strode up the stairs of the boys’ dorms until she was standing outside Tom’s room. 

She plowed through the door and stood at the entrance, making eye contact with a disgruntled Riddle, sitting at his desk with a book sprawled out before him. He raised an eyebrow at her in confusion. “Yes?”

“I want to go for a walk,” she stated matter-of-factly.

“Why are you dressed like a Puffskein?” he asked, a slight hint of a smile on his lips as he looked her up and down in amusement.

“Because it’s cold,” she frowned. “Get dressed, let’s go.” He rolled his eyes, but still stood up and walked to his dresser, taking out a coat, gloves, and scarf and draping it on over his clothes. He made his way towards the door, but she blocked his path. “I said it’s cold.”

“Warming spells exist, you know,” he said.

“Yeah, but it’s almost Christmas. No cheating with magic,” she frowned. He lightly laughed, but still pushed his way past her without grabbing any additional clothes. She followed behind him, grumbling, “You’re a killjoy.”

“No, I’m just smarter about my utilization of magic,” he stated, leading them down the hall and out towards the common room.

“Smarter is not a word I would use to describe you,” she muttered.

“No? What would you prefer then? Brighter? More intelligent?”

“More annoying? More boring? Definitely more boring.”

She watched him slowly turn around to face her, his body approaching hers until she backed up into the stone wall. A devilish grin found its way onto his lips as his fingers trailed down her coat, working on unbuttoning it. “Boring, am I?”

She watched as he successfully opened her coat up, only to reveal the two sweaters she wore underneath it, his face falling instantly upon the realization. Her laughter bellowed out uncontrollably when she saw the lust in his eyes disappear to nothing more than disappointed irritation. “Nice try,” she chuckled, buttoning the coat back up. “Now stop pouting,” she said, getting on her tip-toes to press a kiss to his cheek before prancing off towards the exit.

He stood there for a moment, a blank look on his face, before letting out a deep exhale and following after her. 

They made their way through the castle until they were able to exit through the main entrance. As soon as they stepped foot outside, Tom wasted no time casting a warming spell on himself, and Avalon wasted no time pulling her scarf up to cover the majority of her face. Still, the chill of the winter air bore through all the layers of clothing she had piled on, making her sniffle beneath her scarf. But, the cold was not nearly enough to squash her good mood. 

Being outside of the castle for once was a much-welcomed change of scenery for her. Tom couldn’t see her giant smile that was hidden beneath her scarf, but he could tell she was happy just from the way she was bouncing up and down with joy as they walked through the snow-covered grounds. 

Her eyes darted around, staring at the snow-covered trees with a gleam in her gaze that exuded more joy than he had ever thought possible for one person to contain. Tiny snowflakes found home within her midnight hair, painting her with a thousand white pearls that shone under the stray rays of the hidden sun. Her steps were heavier than usual, and he was almost certain it was because she liked hearing the subtle crunch of the snow beneath her feet. 

In Tom’s eyes, Avalon could be called many things: bold, brash, and brave were among the first few that came to mind. But, at that moment, she just looked… pure. 

Not guarded, not mistrusting, not discreet.

Just pure… and good… and unbothered. 

It was as if whatever terrors that haunted her sleep had faded away, even if only for a second. 

He didn’t understand how someone like her could look at someone like him, knowing what he has done, and not cower at what greeted her. A part of him wondered if she would look at him differently if she knew the full extent of his sins-- he didn’t think he quite wanted to know the answer.

It didn’t make sense… he couldn’t put together a reason why someone who valued light over all else, would ever dare settle for such darkness. As much as he didn’t want to entertain the thought, he knew he needed to be careful. She had always been dangerously curious about him, and if Xavier was telling the truth, and she’d used Legilimens to peer into his memory, Tom couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling that there was something she wasn’t telling him. He just couldn’t be sure. When she looked at him these past few days, he swore all he saw was affection, but he wasn’t naive. He didn’t know the details of where Avalon had come from or what she’d seen, but he couldn’t put it past her to veil her deception with teasing smiles and gentle kisses. After all, the obnoxious Transfiguration professor had said Tom and Avalon were birds of a feather. If that was true--if she was anything like him-- then he couldn’t trust her. Not entirely.

His thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of a snowball colliding straight into his chest. A slight frown found its way onto his lips as he looked up to see Avalon getting ready to pelt a second one his way. As soon as the second glob of pressed snow left her hand, he merely flicked his wand towards it and watched as it disintegrated into a puff of powdery snow before their eyes. 

Avalon angrily put a hand on her hip and frowned. “That’s hardly how you have a proper snowball fight.”

He raised an eyebrow at her and asked, “A snowball fight? Are we children?”

She didn’t let the snide remark get to her. She just shrugged and said, “You’re just scared because you know you’d lose to me.”

“How you manage to turn everything into a competition is beyond me,” he grumbled. 

“It’s not a competition when I’m better at everything,” she grinned.

“Better at getting under people’s skin, perhaps,” he sighed.

“Better at dueling-”

“Wrong.”

“Better at dancing-”

“If you call tripping over my feet dancing-”

“Better at Transfiguration-”

“So you can make a bird appear...” he grumbled bitterly. 

She flicked her wand towards a pebble and watched as it turned into a white dove, flying over towards him and pecking at his head. He swatted at it angrily and began to point his wand at it, ready to strike it down, but she cried out, “No! It’s real, moron!” 

He rolled his eyes and watched as it flew off into the trees, a look of pure annoyance permanently embedded into his face. 

She grinned triumphantly. “As I was saying… better at Transfiguration.”

“I’m better at Potions,” he shot back.

“I’m better at Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

“And I’m better  _ at _ the Dark Arts,” he chuckled.

“I excel at drinking.”

“No, you excel at getting drunk.”

“Chess,” she exclaimed. “I’m better at chess.”

“We haven’t even played,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“We’re about to,” she said, turning around sharply and stomping back towards the castle. 

“Excuse me?”

“Come on!” she said impatiently. She began walking backward, clapping her hands and calling out, “Chop chop, we haven’t got all day!” When she saw him refusing to budge, she let out an exasperated groan and ran over, grabbing him by the wrist and yanking him along after her. 

She dragged him towards the castle with such authority and determination in her stride that it rendered it impossible for him to hide the amusement on his lips. It wasn’t until they made it to the castle’s entrance and the door swung open that the smile on his lips faded.

Out walked their Transfiguration professor, that same ever-present whimsical smile etched onto his face as his eyes landed on Tom and Avalon. Tom had to do his best to hide the immediate sense of resentment that washed over him as Dumbledore said, “Ah, Miss Hendrix, Mr. Riddle. It’s nice to see you both.” His eyes slowly trailed down and his smile widened ever-so-slightly when he saw the way Avalon was still holding onto Tom’s wrist.

She felt a blush creep onto her cheeks and quickly dropped his hand, which Tom noticed immediately. “Nice to see you, too, sir,” she said. “I didn’t know you were going to be staying here over the holiday.”

“Yes, yes,” he nodded absentmindedly. “Myself and a few other professors are here to ensure the safety of the castle. I will say, it’s nice to see another student here this year. I’m sure Mr. Riddle appreciates the company, as well.”

“I’m positively thrilled,” Tom said through a tight-lipped smile. 

The professor chuckled lightly to himself before saying, “I won’t take any more of your time. I was going for a walk around the grounds. I’ll see the both of you around, I presume.”

“We’ll see you later, sir,” Avalon said politely, while Tom opted for a curt nod. Without another word, he walked out of the castle, allowing them to walk in after him. As soon as the door closed behind them, Tom let out an agitated huff and Avalon laughed. “What’s your deal?”

“The man is unbearable,” he grumbled. 

Avalon kept walking, leading them back towards Ravenclaw Tower as she answered. “He can be a bit… ominous… at times,” she said, choosing her words wisely. “But, he is still the most brilliant wizard alive.”

Tom scoffed. “That would be Grindelwald.”

“Hardly,” she said with a roll of her eyes. 

“You don’t have to agree with his ideologies to admit that the man is powerful, Hendrix,” he said with a shrug. “If it were a duel between the two, Dumbledore wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Avalon laughed to herself, marveling in the irony of his statement. “I can  _ promise _ you that is false.”

“I can promise you it isn’t,” he retorted.

“You know what… I’ll bet you five galleons that you’re wrong,” she said, extending a hand for him to shake. 

“And how will that bet be decided? Grindelwald is in hiding,” he pointed out.

She laughed. “Give it time. You in or what?”

He rolled his eyes but took a hold of her hand and shook it. “Deal.” Instead of letting go of her hand, he laced their fingers together and walked alongside her as she dragged them back to her own common room. 

Once they arrived, she took them straight toward a table in the corner of the brightly lit room. Chess being a favorite pastime for many Ravenclaws, the game was already set up on the table, the black and white pieces neatly organized atop the board. Tom sat on the side with the black pieces, leaving Avalon to take the white half of the board. 

“White goes first,” Tom said, motioning towards the game.

“I’m aware,” she said with a scowl. “Pawn to E4.”

They watched as the small figurine slid forward, inching toward Tom’s side of the board. “Pawn to E5,” Tom said, his black pawn skidding across from Avalon’s. 

Aside from the crackling of the fireplace, the room was silent as Avalon stared at the pieces before her, Tom leaning back in his chair as he awaited her next move. “Pawn to F4.”

“King’s Gambit?” he asked, referring to her last move.

She narrowed her eyes on him, not having anticipated him to know different chess strategies. Perhaps, the boy played more than he had initially let on… “Yes,” she answered, trying not to let him sense any nerves in her voice. Losing to him was simply not something that she could allow-- his ego would never let her live it down.

He nodded, a smirk on his lips. “Pawn takes F4,” he said, both of them watching as his pawn invaded her piece’s spot, knocking it off the board. 

Avalon rolled her eyes, knowing that he would have taken the opportunity to take her piece. “Bishop to C4.”

As soon as her bishop finished making its way across the board, Tom said smugly, “Queen to H4. Check.”

She frowned at the board, analyzing her next move carefully to ensure he wouldn’t win the game. The smug look on his face made her blood boil-- as if he thought he would be able to win in a matter of three moves. “King to F1,” she said, protecting her King by removing it from the path of his Queen. “You’re not winning that easily.”

“Pawn to B5,” he said, continuing to speak as he watched the piece slide forward. “Where did you learn to play chess?”

“A friend of mine taught me,” she said, a solemn smile on her lips as she thought nostalgically back to the countless hours Ron had spent teaching her the rules and tricks of the game. “He was an excellent opponent. Bishop takes B5.”

Tom didn’t pay much attention as her Bishop swiped at his Pawn, tossing it off the board. “Was?” he asked. “Knight to F6.”

She chewed on the inside of her lip and shrugged, her smile fading as she said, “We lost touch. Knight to F3. How about yourself?”

“Rosier introduced me to the game. I took it upon myself to read a few books on strategy, though. Queen to H6.” For someone who spoke so fondly of her loved ones, Tom thought it was odd how Avalon never received any letters from anybody-- not from Durmstrang, nor from her family. He thought back to what Xavier had told him after the boy had taken Avalon on a picnic: she cares more about her friends than she does anything else. His mind went back to what she had said atop the Astronomy Tower: 

_ ‘Living forever just means watching everyone you love eventually die… And I’ve already done that.’ _

He couldn’t help but wonder if her severed ties to her friends were more serious than just losing contact due to distance. 

As his Queen shifted diagonally across the checkered board, he asked, “Do you miss them? Your friends?”

“More than anything,” she answered truthfully. 

“Surely, you could have taken the holiday break as an opportunity to visit them?”

She laughed lightly, a forlorn look in her eyes when she said, “If only it were as simple as that.” He raised an eyebrow at her in confusion and she added, “Many of them were unavailable. Pawn to D3.”

“Unavailable?” he asked.

“I believe you’re smart enough to know what I mean,” she replied. He forgot about their chess match for a moment as he watched her. 

It wasn’t much, but it was still more information that she was usually willing to give him. It was progress, he thought, that she was telling him anything at all-- the last time she had been candid about her life had been when she was drunk out of her mind. A sober confession about her life or past was quite a rarity for her.

The more time he spent with her, it became abundantly clear to him that she would never truly be an open book. No matter how much he tried, it seemed as though there were parts of her past that she was not willing to give up. However, little by little, she was letting him see parts of her that had previously been entirely out of the question, and he didn’t take that lightly. 

Her secrecy didn’t bother him as much as it used to. His priorities had shifted, he realized: he no longer felt the need to learn more about her to gain something-- be it information, power, influence… His only reason for wanting to learn more about her now was to simply understand her and ensure that she had no ulterior motives in regards to their relationship. 

“I still know very little about you,” he noted.

“You know more about me than anyone else at this school,” she pointed out. 

“More than even Avery?” he asked incredulously. 

“If I told Orion some of the things I have confessed to you, I don’t think he would ever look at me the same,” she said quietly. Hearing her admit that, however, gave him a sense of pride-- to know she had confided in him more than the others felt like a small victory. The knowledge that what they shared was sacred between them was something he valued more than he cared to let on. 

“And are the things I know about you all true?”

She shrugged. “Everything that matters, yes.” She was cautiously wary of how many questions he was asking her-- continuously analyzing his eyes for any signs of deceit. But, strangely enough, she didn’t think he was prying for information this time around. He seemed genuinely curious, as if wanting to get to know her for the sake of getting to know her, not for the sole purpose of taking advantage of the knowledge she was willing to give up. A few moments of silence passed before she said. “Your move.”

He looked taken aback for a moment before he remembered that they were in the midst of a chess match. His eyes danced back towards the board as he determined his next move, then said, “Knight to H5.” 

She paused before noting, “You haven’t exactly told me much about yourself, either.”

“For the same reason you keep things from Avery, I think it’s best this way.”

“You’d be surprised how little can shock me,” she said, shifting her eyes from the chessboard to meet his. They kept each other’s gaze for a minute, neither one saying anything as they each waited to see if either would back away-- but neither did.

“Why aren’t you afraid?” he asked.

“I’ve lived through all my greatest fears and yet I am still here. What is there left to be afraid of?” 

“Alright, forget about fear, then. What are the things you seek in life?” 

She rested her head in the palm of her hand, thinking as she stared up at the ever-changing ceiling of Ravenclaw’s common room. “Peace,” she finally said. “For me and for the people I love.”

“Is that what you see in the Mirror of Erised?” he asked, earning a nod in return. “So that is why you returned to it?”

“Seeing my loved ones gives me clarity,” she said, thinking back to how she had seen him in the Mirror, too. 

“You speak of them very highly.”

“They have given me every reason to. I owe my life to their sacrifices,” she said adamantly. As little as she understood Tom, one thing had become abundantly clear to her: he cared deeply about her protection, though she had yet to fully grasp the reason. She wondered if telling him about those who had risked everything for her safety could possibly sway him towards the light that she so desperately needed him to grasp. Perhaps, she thought, a leap of faith and a semblance of trust could benefit her goal. So, slowly, she said, “The memory that you saw of me… when I got my scars… I was not there alone.”

Tom was surprised to hear her bring up the memory. Thus far, it had been a topic that she never wished to discuss. Just a few weeks ago, he would have done anything to hear her speak these words to him-- he would have been willing to force the confession out of her if need be. But now, he just listened quietly. 

“That man that you saw… he sought information. What I knew was the only reason I was kept alive-- my friend could have given him the knowledge he desired and spared herself. But, she didn’t, knowing that if she did, they would have no use for me anymore,” she said quietly, a single tear spilling down her cheek as she thought of Hermione. “They tortured her with the Cruciatus Curse for so long that she lost her mind to its abuse, yet she remained strong until the very end to protect me.”

Tom wasn’t entirely sure how to react to the confession, though he gently reached out and took her left hand into his own from across the table, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of her skin. 

She glanced down at his hold before saying, “She was muggle-born. The brightest witch I have ever known. So, when you ask me why I am willing to fight against blood-prejudices, it is because I owe my life to the same people that you and your friends think are beneath you.”

Tom looked down, suddenly not wanting to meet her gaze. Her words were charged with a fervent loyalty to her friends-- one that he now knew stemmed from unbreakable bonds and loyalties that he couldn’t begin to comprehend. 

His next words were pleasantly unexpected for her to hear. “She sounds quite extraordinary.” 

A soft smile found its way onto her lips and she nodded. “Quite… they all were.” She felt her stomach in knots as she fiddled with her next words, mentally going back and forth on whether or not it was a good idea to tell him more. A part of her was still hesitant to open up to him, knowing that despite what she felt for him, he still could not fully be trusted. And yet another part of her-- the more optimistic part-- wanted to believe that perhaps if he was exposed to enough goodness, then those values would eventually rub off onto him. She decided to go with the latter and finally said, “And then there was Harry…” 

His ears perked up at the mention of the name. Her voice was rather weak and her eyes threatened to fill with tears almost immediately, but he waited for her to keep speaking. Several moments passed, and it was clear she was going back and forth with herself, unsure if she wanted to continue, so he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. As much as he wanted to know more about this Harry she evidently cared so much about, he no longer wished to force the information out of her. Just as he opened his mouth to tell her she didn’t have to talk if she didn’t want to, she continued. “He was an orphan… like us. He had suffered more than anyone else, and yet despite every hardship, despite every loss, and despite the fact that it seemed as though the weight of the world were put on his shoulders alone, he always found a way to do what was right-- not just what was easy. He made the selfless choice… the hardest choice… the bravest choice… every single time.” She paused for a moment, a few tears trickling down her cheeks as she stared blankly at her trembling hands before saying, “He chose the light every time.”

Tom was no expert at consolation, though even he knew that nothing he could say would even begin to be enough to adequately respond to what she had just shared. Still, after her shaking fingers reached up to wipe the tears off her face with her free hand, he leaned forward and took that one into his hold, too, before lifting it to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. He didn’t say anything, but she was appreciative of the quiet, for once, focusing instead on the lingering feeling of his kiss on her hand. 

Slowly, Tom was beginning to understand her a little bit better. The more she opened up to him, the more sense he could make of her… her personality, her demeanor, her values. They were finally falling into place like pieces of a puzzle, one that formed a finished piece much more complex than he could have ever initially imagined. 

She took in a deep breath, shaking her head as she tried to move forward. Finally, she said, “Knight to H4.”

As they continued on with their match, Tom noticed the competitive spark in her eyes slowly return as time went on, replacing her somber nostalgia with the same eager excitement that she had at the start of the game. Eventually, they once again found themselves wrapped up in lighthearted banter, though Tom had to do his best to conceal the way his thoughts lingered on what she had told him. 

Tom stared at the board before them. He had several more pieces left than she did, though he had to admit that she was a much more aggressive player than he was. Her pieces littered his side of the board, consistently forcing their way closer and closer to his King. Still, he knew that his strategy was a safe bet-- protect the King and let her meet her own defeat through her reckless playing. “Knight to A6.”

“Knight takes G7,” Avalon said with no hesitation, her Knight sliding forward and taking one of his Pawns. “Check.”

“King to D8,” he said, pulling his King out of her line of attack. “A bold choice for someone who has so few pieces left,” he noted. 

She rolled her eyes, a slight smile on her lips as she looked at the board. Without wasting another moment, she said, “Queen to F6. Check.”

Tom narrowed his eyes at her exposed Queen. As he had expected, she had left one of her most valuable pieces completely vulnerable in an attempt to win the game. Though, he shook his head, knowing he could easily avoid her check by taking her Queen. “Knight takes F6,” he said, a cocky grin finding its way onto his face as he leaned back, placing his hands on the back of his head and watching as his Knight overtook her Queen, knocking it off the board. 

Avalon lightly laughed to herself, trying to bite back her smile as she looked into his eyes triumphantly and said, “Bishop to E7. Checkmate.”

His eyes widened as he quickly sat forward, looking at the board in disbelief. No matter where he moved his King, it would be in the direct line of either her Knights or Bishop. He opened his mouth to try and say his next move, but there was none that would spare his piece. 

She grinned, extending her hand for recognition of her victory. “Now is when you shake my hand.”

He rolled his eyes, a frown on his lips as he reluctantly took a hold of her hand and gave it a half-hearted shake. “I want a rematch.”

“I’ll gladly beat you again,” she laughed. 

“You sacrificed all of your best pieces to set this up,” he said incredulously. 

She shrugged, a soft smile on her lips. “But, in the end, who won?” 


	39. Chapter 39

Avalon liked to listen to the sound of his heartbeat. 

She felt oddly at peace with the quiet drumming, so she closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, her head gently resting atop his bare chest as his fingers lazily played with her midnight hair. The warmth of his body was growing to be one of her favorite things to cuddle up to in the cold of the winter. She wrapped the blanket tighter around herself before shifting up closer against him, the feeling of her skin against his easing her mind.

Tom watched as she curled up against him. He relaxed into her touch, finding solace in their shared moments after intimacy. It was strange, Tom thought to himself. He’d had plenty of physical encounters with different women in his life, but with them, he never stayed long. With Avalon, though, he couldn’t bear to leave-- even if that meant spending most of his time in the Ravenclaw Tower. 

He moved his fingers out from her hair until they graced the high-point of her cheek. His touch was feather-light, but her eyes still fluttered open, trailing up to meet his as a tender smile etched onto her swollen lips. 

Slowly, her eyes danced around her dorm, though his gaze remained only on her. She looked fondly towards the fireplace, crackling quietly in the corner, before watching tiny snowflakes fall onto her window, the intricacies of their delicate patterns leaving a mosaic of icy art along the frost-bitten glass. 

“Can you believe in a couple of hours it is going to be Christmas?” she asked, excitement in her quiet voice. 

“Is it?” he asked, having lost track of the days. 

She furrowed her brows. “Yes, it is.” He felt her shift her weight slightly, sitting up a little, pulling the blanket up with her to cover herself. “I absolutely adore this time of year. Don’t you?”

He shrugged. “It’s not much different from the rest of the year, in my opinion.”

“What do you mean? It’s just so… pleasant,” she said warmly. “Sitting by the fire while the snow falls, decorations everywhere, eating Christmas cookies… how could you not love it?”

“Frankly, I don’t partake in any Christmas celebrations,” he said. 

“Then what do you do? Surely, you must have some sort of tradition,” she asked, curiosity in her eyes as she looked at him. 

“I do nothing,” he shrugged.

“Not even when you were a child?” she asked.

“The place I grew up was not prone to such festivities.”

“The orphanage, you mean?” she asked softly, her eyes gentle as she gazed into his. 

His body tensed at the word. “Yes,” he said, his tone growing agitated. 

She began to open her mouth to ask another question when she felt the heat of his body leave the bed as he stood up, pulling on his clothes and getting dressed. “What are you doing?” she asked, confused.

“I think I’ll be spending the night in my own dorm tonight,” he said coldly, pulling his sweater on over his head. 

“I didn’t realize I had struck a nerve,” she remarked, watching as he grabbed his wand off of her nightstand. “I just wanted to know more about you.”

“You know plenty,” he replied, trying to hide the agitation in his voice as he walked towards the door. 

“You can’t be bloody serious right now,” she frowned, her frustration quickly rising. “You don’t get to ask me about my past and then cower away the second I ask about yours. Trust is a two-way street, Tom.”

He took in a deep breath before putting his hand on the doorknob and opening it up. Before he left, he muttered out a stern, “Goodnight,” and then strode out the next moment, abandoning her in the silence that he left in his wake. 

She watched as he left without another word, flinching as the door slammed shut behind him. His cold voice echoed in her ears. Avalon was aware that changing Tom would not be an overnight task-- she was not naive. Though, still, it felt as though every time she made any progress with him, she was only met with his resistance shortly after.

One step forward, five steps back.

She didn’t think it would be easy, nor did she think it would be simple, but she hoped, with all her heart, that it would eventually be worth it.

_ Be patient with him _ , she kept reminding herself. Though, admittedly, she feared she had run out of patience ages ago. All she was left with was a pestering doubt that kept wondering if Tom Riddle could, in fact, be changed after all. 

The smallest things still upset him. Despite all the progress he had made, she knew that he had only truly opened up to her on a physical level. His mind was still just as closed off to her as before, and he showed no signs of wanting to invite her in. Everything she knew about him was knowledge that she either knew from the future, or things that she had learned without his consent, which, altogether, still didn’t amount to much. 

It was hard to fight off the voice in her head that told her she was being foolish, letting her emotions blind her from the truth. Perhaps Tom Riddle was never going to change. Perhaps all of her efforts were for nothing. And perhaps, one way or another, she was being pushed towards an inevitable outcome that she was trying to run from.

But, all she knew was that she wasn’t going to give up on him… not yet, at least. Because perhaps, all he needed was someone to put faith in him for once in his entire life. 

\-----

The next morning, Avalon dragged her feet as she made her way towards the Great Hall for breakfast. Her eyes stung with the exhaustion of another sleepless night tormented by haunting nightmares that made her toss and turn until day broke. 

When she had first woken up, she instinctively trudged to her dresser to pull out the ‘A’ knit sweater that Molly had made for her several years back, though it took her a moment to remember that she didn’t have it with her in this time. With a dejected sigh, she instead had decided to pull on the comfiest pullover she could find, though she wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and find herself at the Burrow with her friends by her side. 

The hallways were empty, as she had expected, but it still upset her, nonetheless. There was no sign of life anywhere in the castle, a somber quiet lying in place of where she had hoped to see Christmas spirit. 

Only when she entered the Great Hall did a small semblance of joy flood back into her body. The sight of the tall Christmas trees lined around the perimeter and the tiny Christmas feast stacked on the Ravenclaw table made her smile. She walked over and sat at her usual seat, picking up a slice of gingerbread and quietly eating it, trying not to think too much of the people she wished were by her side. 

Her isolation was short-lived, however. Minutes later, she heard footsteps enter the expansive Hall and her head whipped up in time to see Tom walking in. A part of her expected him to walk over and sit by her side, though, despite his eyes meeting hers for a moment, he still made his way quietly to Slytherin’s table and sat down with his back facing her. 

_ Merry bloody Christmas to you, too, _ she thought bitterly to herself. 

She sighed and picked up a scone, taking it with her as she stood up and walked out of the Great Hall, going back to her dorm and leaving Tom alone. He listened to her footsteps drag further and further until he couldn’t hear them any longer, but he didn’t turn to watch her exit. 

When his gaze had met hers, he had noticed the dark set circles beneath her bloodshot hazel eyes and felt a pang of guilt for having left her alone the night prior, surely having to deal with her nightmares alone. It wasn’t something he was quite proud of, though his annoyance had gotten the best of him when she’d pried into his past. 

After he had left her room, he stood outside her door for several minutes with his hand on her doorknob, debating if he should go inside and mend things with her. Though, ultimately, he let his pride get in the way of his guilt and went back to his own room. 

Still, he had selfishly hoped that when she saw him this morning, she would be back to her usual self and act as though nothing had happened between them. Her silence had, however, proven to him that wouldn’t be the case, so he panicked and chose to eat alone. 

Avalon had lost her appetite by the time she made it back to her room, though she still did her best to eat the remainder of her scone knowing that her body needed it. She plopped onto her bed, tapping her feet against the floor absentmindedly. 

The room felt rather suffocating. With nothing to do, nobody to speak to, and most of Zelda’s things gone, she was forced to face the glaring loneliness that haunted the small dorm. 

Loneliness was something she did not fare well with. 

Even through the harshest parts of the war, as with the aftermath, she had always been surrounded by other members of the Order. It was rare to have a single moment to herself-- not that she would have wanted that. So, sitting there, in the silence of her bedroom, she suddenly felt the visions of her past swarm into her restless mind. 

The things she would do to be with her friends at that moment… 

She missed them dearly. Though, that was exactly why she was here, she had to remind herself. To save them. To protect them. 

_ By betraying them with the man who caused their death? _

She shoved the thought to the back of her mind, trying not to let her guilt debilitate her. But, it was difficult. All of it was difficult. 

The rest of her day dragged on rather uneventfully. She left her room twice: once to get lunch and once to get dinner. When she went to the Great Hall for dinner, she at least ran into Dumbledore and two other professors, who all wished her a Merry Christmas, but aside from that, there was very little holiday cheer to celebrate. 

As far as her past Christmases went, this was, so far, one of the top contenders for worst yet. Though, taking the cake was still the year prior, when Voldemort’s reign of terror and the looming threat of the oncoming war had already begun to drape their lives in a shroud of fear. 

With Ron, Harry, and Hermione already having begun their quest for the Horcruxes, going to the Burrow like years prior hadn’t been an option. So, instead, she had spent the holidays alone with her aunt. Crippling anxieties about her missing friends had rendered it impossible to celebrate, though, and instead they had spent most of the break hovering over a radio, making sure that no bad news was reported about anyone they cared for.

That was also the last time she had seen her aunt. 

Avalon told herself time and time again that her aunt was likely safe from the aftermath of the war-- living quite deep in a rural part of England while also not being affiliated with the Order kept her, for the most part, out of harm’s way. Though, it was hard to be sure. All she knew was that she had never heard her aunt’s name in the list of the deceased… and she refused to even acknowledge the alternative. 

The sound of her door opening made her jump in her bed. 

In walked Tom, a smile absent on his face as he looked at her and said, “Come with me.”

She furrowed her eyebrows and crossed her arms over her chest. “Come with me? That’s all you’ve got?”

“Come on, Hendrix, I don’t have all day,” he said, his eyes an odd mixture of calm and agitated. 

She opened her mouth to argue, but ultimately decided to remain quiet as she begrudgingly stood up and wordlessly made her way over to the door, walking past him without taking the hand he had extended for her to hold. He tried his hardest to conceal his annoyance, instead shoving his hands into his pockets and taking in a deep breath before leading them out of the Tower.

“Where are we going?” she asked, following alongside him. It was rather difficult to keep up with him-- his legs were much longer than hers and he took rather quick steps, but she refused to fall behind so she scurried to remain at his pace.

He chose to ignore her question, but as she followed him up a stairwell and down the familiar hallway, it became clear to her that he was dragging her towards the Room of Requirement. When the door appeared before them, her theory was confirmed. 

“Why are we-”

She cut herself off when he opened the door and she peered inside. He watched as the twinkle in her eyes returned and she bit down on her bottom lip, trying to hide the smile that had found its way onto her face. 

When he saw her dart excitedly into the room, he let out a sigh of relief before following after her. Her eyes gleamed with happiness as she first looked over at the fireplace that crackled in the corner, then moved towards the Christmas tree that stood in the center of the room, blue and green ornaments hanging perfectly off its branches. A single black box with a white bow neatly wrapped around it sat at the base of the tree, though her attention was driven away when she looked up at the ceiling, small snowflakes falling but never quite reaching the ground. 

Slowly, she turned back towards him, her voice breathless when she asked, “What is all of this?”

“I thought perhaps we could start our own Christmas tradition,” he said, taking cautious strides toward her.

It seemed as though her prior inhibitions melted away as she once again looked around the room, bouncing up and down on the tips of her toes as happiness flooded through her. She smiled so wide that her eyes crinkled at their edges. Her joy was contagious and the corners of his own lips turned upwards as he watched her walk up to the tree and examine the ornaments.

He walked up behind her, hesitating before he spoke again. “We didn’t celebrate any holidays at Wool’s.” The mention of the orphanage made her turn to look at him. There was evident surprise in her eyes, clearly not having expected him to speak of his past, but he continued, regardless. “It’s frankly a quite joyless place,” he said, pausing before adding, “Hogwarts has been the closest thing to a real home I’ve ever known. So, I’ve chosen to spend the break here every year-- didn’t give me a chance to celebrate Christmas, but at least it felt like I… belonged, I suppose.”

She gently reached out and took his hand into her own, lacing their fingers together before offering him a soft smile as if to thank him for opening up, if only even just a little. She didn’t take his confession for granted-- she knew that any sort of admission from him was a step in the right direction, and at that moment, she was more than satisfied with his effort. 

He was trying… If nothing else, at least he was trying. And that counted for something. 

Before she had a chance to speak, he knelt down and picked up the small black box from beneath the tree. He fiddled with it in his grasp for a moment, trying to play off his nerves before he placed it into her free hand and said, “It’s nothing too special.”

A look of panic overtook her face as she realized she hadn’t gotten him anything. “I didn’t-”

“There’s nothing I need,” he said curtly. 

“You really didn’t have to-”

“Open it,” he instructed, motioning towards it impatiently. 

She lightly laughed to herself before walking towards the couch, dragging him along with her, and sitting down. Her hand momentarily let go of his as she carefully undid the bow atop the box and opened it up, revealing a thin gold bracelet with a silver stone dangling from the center. 

“Tap the stone,” he said, watching as she pressed her finger to it. 

Instantly, her ears flooded with the soft sounds of a symphony.

She took in a sharp breath, her words suddenly stuck in the back of her throat as she listened to the quiet music playing in her mind. 

“So you never have to face the silence again,” he said quietly, his voice uncharacteristically nervous. 

For someone with a typically sharp tongue, she was being awfully quiet. He couldn’t decipher the look on her face as she tapped the stone once more, the music in her head coming to a halt. A few moments passed and she didn’t say anything, so he said, “I just figured-”

She quickly cut off his incoming stream of anxious rambling when she leaned forward and met his lips in a soft kiss, her hand cupping his cheek. He breathed out a sigh of relief into her mouth before placing his hand atop hers and kissing her back. 

It was a slow and gentle kiss on both of their ends-- neither one trying to deepen it, nor assert their dominance. It was soft, steady, and tender… filled with a slew of emotions that neither one was quite ready to admit to feeling. 

She was the first to pull away, though just barely. He could still feel the heat of her breath when she whispered, “I love it.”

His eyes trailed down and he took the bracelet out of the box, grabbing hold of her wrist, and carefully slipping it onto her hand. Her eyes remained glued to the dainty jewelry, the soft smile on her lips never leaving as she admired it happily. 

“How did you-”

“I just transfigured the golden coin from our project and charmed the stone,” he said. “It’s nothing, really.”

She shook her head. “No, it’s everything. Thank you.” He was a little taken aback when she threw her hands around his neck and pulled him in for a tight hug, but eventually wrapped his own arms around her, as well, and held her in his embrace as she smiled into his shoulder. “Merry Christmas, Tom.”

He pressed a kiss onto her hair. “Merry Christmas, dove.”

Her heart fluttered at his words, which scared her. How it had happened, she didn’t know, but she was fully aware of the fact that she had placed her trust into believing that Tom Riddle was able to be good… that he could be saved. And that was a very dangerous thing to place faith into. 

_ Please let me be right about him _ , she silently prayed.  _ Please let him be worth the risk. _

He leaned back slowly, pulling her down with him until they were both lying down on the couch, their legs tangled as they curled up together. She rested her head atop his outstretched arm, looking up at him with a twinkle in her eyes. 

“I’m sure this isn’t as nice as the Christmases that you’re accustomed to-”

“No,” she said, cutting him off. “No, it’s lovely. Different, sure. But wonderful.”

“Tell me about them,” he said, tucking a stray strand of her hair behind her ears. 

“I spent most Christmases at my friends’ family house,” she said, her mind straying to the times at the Burrow. “My aunt would come, too. She’s really the only family I have, so we didn’t have many people to celebrate with until we started spending holidays with the others. And their mom knitted us all these sweaters with our initials on them so we’d all wear them and play games together and...” She paused, a nostalgic smile flashing onto her face as she thought fondly about her memories with her friends. “It was quite chaotic, but I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

He nodded, trying to imagine what she was describing. “Indeed, it does sound quite different.”

She laughed. “Two of my closest friends… two twin brothers… they had a habit of seeing who could pull off the best Christmas prank. One year they placed a concealment glamour on the wine to make it look and taste like hot chocolate. We were all tripping over our own feet a few hours later and nobody knew why until they confessed to it the next morning.”

“So that’s where you inherited your drinking problem,” he said with a sly grin.

She whacked him across the chest. “Hey, watch it,” she said sternly, though could only bite back her smile for a second before she burst into laughter again. “Admittedly, they weren’t the best influence on me.”

They talked for another hour or so-- mainly, it consisted of her recalling her favorite holiday memories to him. After describing a couple of Fred and George’s pranks to him, she quickly came to two conclusions: firstly, that Tom would go absolutely mental if he ever met the twins, and secondly, that the twins would thrive off making Tom’s life hell if given the chance. The thought of it made her chuckle to herself. 

Once she had reminisced about enough memories, she hastily got up, declaring that she wanted sugar cookies promptly before dragging him towards the Kitchens. Her sudden craving for the sweets seemed to awaken a beast within her, Tom thought to himself as she hurriedly yanked him through the castle to arrive at her destination. He swore he had never seen her short legs clamber faster than they did in that moment. 

In the Kitchens, she spotted those two house-elves that she always spoke to and ran towards them, enveloping the duo in a warm hug before wishing them a happy holiday. Tom tried his hardest to stand to the side, though she sensed his silence almost instantly and glared at him until he muttered a quiet ‘Merry Christmas’ as well. The two elves immediately ran over and hugged his legs after that, though he shook them off rather quickly, much to Avalon’s disapproval. 

She waited patiently for the elves to then bring her a cookie, insisting that Tom also try a bite for the sake of ‘Christmas spirit.’ Reluctantly, he gave in, which seemed to satisfy her enough to finish the sweet and then bid the elves a good night before taking his hand in hers and taking him out to the corridor. 

“Your room or mine?” she asked. 

He smiled to himself, finding joy in how she didn’t bother to ask if they were going to spend the night together-- it was just a given. “Mine,” he replied, taking a hold of her hand and leading them back in the direction of the Slytherin dormitories. Tom couldn’t help but watch in amusement as she strode up to the entrance of the common room and declared the password, storming in and toward his room without even waiting for him to catch up. 

The moment they reached his room, she plopped onto his bed, making herself comfortable as she kicked off her shoes and leaned back. He followed in suit, lying down beside her and pulling her in close to his body. Her eyes had that look of focus in them where he could tell she was about to ask him a question, and, as if on cue, a few moments later she said, “Why don’t you have a roommate?”

He shrugged. “I was assigned roommates up until Fourth Year.”

“What happened then?” she asked cautiously.

“They kept switching schools,” he said, a mischievous smirk on his lips as his hand trailed down the side of her hips. “Suppose they gave up after that.”

She narrowed her eyes on him, thinking back to how he had said he was responsible for four deaths. “You didn’t-”

“No, of course not,” he laughed. “Just scared them a little.”

“Scared them?” she chuckled. 

“I can be quite frightening when I want to be,” he grinned, rolling over to hover above her, an arm on either side of her head as he leaned down and kissed her neck. 

“Can you?” she giggled. “I don’t buy it.”

“You don’t?” he asked, placing his finger beneath her chin and tilting her head to meet his eyes. There was a playful glint in his stare, one that made her heart skip a beat when she saw it. 

“No,” she said, smiling as he stole a kiss from her lips. “Not anymore, at least.”

“How foolish of you,” he said, his lips brushing against her ear. 

She smirked and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him back towards her as her lips met his. His fingers found their way into her hair, grabbing a handful of her dark locks and tugging harshly down, earning a sharp gasp and direct access to her exposed neck. He wasted no time latching his mouth onto her throat, his teeth grazing her skin as he got to work leaving several fresh lovebites along her skin. “You don’t get to hide these this time,” he said, nipping at her shoulder and grinning as her hands raked down his arms. 

He snaked a hand behind her back, lifting her up slightly before he pulled her sweater up and over her head. She felt him start to fiddle with her bra, about to rip it off while he was busy kissing her collarbones, leaving a trail of budding purple bruises in his wake. Before he could, though, she hooked a leg around him and drew him down to the bed, flipping them so she could straddle his waist. “Someone’s eager tonight,” she smirked. 

She grabbed the collar of his jumper and pulled it forward, watching as he sat up just enough for her to place a taunting kiss on the corner of his mouth. When she leaned back, she noticed how his eyes had darkened with a lustful want-- one that she was knowingly encouraging. He tried to pull her back in for a kiss, but she dodged his lips a moment before they met hers, making him miss his intended target and kiss her neck instead. She felt his lips curl into a smirk against her skin, mirroring the one on her own face as she reached for the bottom of his sweater and yanked it up over his head, tossing it aside carelessly before she met his mouth in a heated kiss. 

She felt him firmly place one hand on her waist while the other wrapped behind her neck, pulling her closer to him as she felt him take her bottom lip between his teeth. Her fingers remained busy, though, working on unbuckling his belt as she traced her tongue along the side of his. 

“Who’s eager now?” he asked, pulling back for a moment to watch as she successfully unbuckled it. She could already feel his growing erection beneath her, the bulge in his pants becoming impossible to miss. 

She put a finger beneath his chin, tilting his gaze to meet hers before she rocked her hips forward, grinning when she heard him let out a slight groan. Slowly, she leaned forward, her hips moving against him as she whispered into his ear, “Still you.”

He took in a sharp breath, trying to steady his racing heart as her fingers worked on unbuttoning his pants. She was able to pop the button in a matter of seconds, momentarily leaving her position on his lap to pull his pants and boxers down.

“Avalon-” he began, but his thoughts were cut short when he felt her hand wrap around his length. 

“Shhh,” she hushed, silencing his sentence as she adjusted her grip around him and slowly moved her hand up and down, biting back a smile as she heard his breath hitch in his throat. She loved watching his hands desperately grip the sheets beneath him and his jaw clench as he tried to conceal the moan that was threatening to slip out. “Just sit back,” she said, leaning forward, keeping her eyes steady with his, “and relax,” she finished with a wink. 

Before he could say anything in response, she took him into her mouth, swirling her tongue around his tip. A low moan escaped his lips, his grip tightening on the sheets as he watched her bat her eyelashes at him while she hollowed her cheeks around him, moving her head slowly up and down. 

She made sure to keep his eyes glued to hers as she began taking more and more of him past her lips with each tantalizing bob of her head. He was too big to fully fit into her mouth, so her hands remained coiled around his base, moving in sync with her mouth as she ran her tongue along him, watching as he struggled to keep his composure. 

Seeing him come undone at her touch was a nice change for her-- he had grown far too used to being the one in control. 

She quickened her pace, sucking on him until his desperate hands tangled into her hair and tried to pull her head forward. Before he could get what he wanted, though, she quickly took her lips off of him, instead stroking his length with her hands as she moved up to whisper into his ear, “You’re not the one in charge right now.” He opened his mouth to say something, but she only tightened her grip around him as she ran her thumb across his tip, silencing his thoughts with his own desperate moan. “Is that a problem?” she asked innocently, pumping her hand along his length as she spoke. He could barely keep his breathing steady, let alone form words, so she grinned, biting her bottom lip as she said, “Didn’t think so.”

As she pulled back, her eyes met his once more while she slowly moved down his body, leaving kisses down from his ear… to his jaw… neck… chest… stomach… hips… until she found herself back where she wanted to be. 

He could see the mischievous spark in her eyes as she grinned at him, licking her lips as she held his gaze. Never before in his life had anyone been able to captivate him the way she did-- everything she did was euphoric to him. There was no way he would ever allow anyone else to take control this way, but with her, there was something so indescribably alluring about watching her eyes darken as she moved her hair to the side and took him into her mouth… he had no intention of stopping her. Not yet, at least.

“ _ Fuck _ ,” he hissed out as she took him deeper than ever, brushing the back of her throat. She hummed in contentment at the sound of his expletive, the vibration nearly driving him mad. 

He could see it in her eyes-- she was growing far too comfortable being in control. 

As much as he was enjoying himself, he refused to allow her to remain in her position of power. So, without another moment of hesitation, he gripped her hair and pulled her off him, throwing her onto the bed. 

“You’re maddening,” he snarled as he tugged her skirt and tights down and off her body, hastily discarding them to the side before climbing back atop her. 

She grinned, shrugging as she slipped off her own bra and said, “Am I?”

“Completely,” he said as he rocked into her, trying to keep his breathing steady as she bit down on her lip, her eyes threatening to clasp shut. He was able to push in with ease, her arousal making his job easy. “So wet and I’ve barely touched you,” he hissed into her ear. He began thrusting in and out, his strokes deep and hard, making her eyes roll back in pure ecstasy. 

Her hands grasped his biceps, desperate to hold onto something as he quickened his pace. He leaned down and kissed her shoulder a moment before he bit down on her skin, his lips twisting into a smirk when he heard the moan that fell from her lips. Her grip on his arms tightened, but he slowly moved his right hand down her body until he slid his fingers between her legs, rubbing circles onto her clit with his thumb while he kept thrusting in and out, his movements fueled by a desperate need for her. 

He hovered his ear by her mouth, listening as her moans became more sporadic and less controlled. From the way her back arched to the way her toes curled, her entire body reacted to his hypnotic touch. 

“Do you want to come, dove?” he asked, his voice dripping with desire as he looked into her eyes. Her bottom lip trembled as she nodded, trying her hardest to maintain her crumbling composure. “I can’t hear you.”

She took in a shaky breath before breathing out, “Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes please,” she whimpered, a desperate gasp fleeing her lips as he pushed himself into her fully one last time before pulling out. She rocked her hips forward, desperate for his touch to drive her over the edge as she was so close to nearing her finish. 

“Too bad,” he grinned, flipping her over and positioning her on her hands and knees, facing her toward the mirror on his wall. 

Just as she was about to whine about him abruptly stopping, he resumed right where he had left off. She tried to close her eyes, the feeling overwhelming her senses, but he buried one hand into her hair, yanking her head back until she was forced to stare at their reflection across the room. “Watch me while I fuck you.”

His right hand moved away from her hair to wrap around her neck and pull her up while her other hand pushed down on her lower abdomen, keeping her as close to his body as she could be so he could get in as deep as possible. With her back pressed against his chest, he quickened his pace, his strokes becoming more unbridled as he felt himself nearing his own finish. 

As she felt his grip tighten around her neck, she struggled to breathe against his grasp, her own fingers darting up to pry atop his. But, she could barely focus on that, her thoughts far too hazy to worry about anything other than the feeling of him going deeper and deeper into her, long after she thought he had already filled her up as much as possible. 

“You look fucking gorgeous like this, dove,” he breathed out, his eyes meeting hers in the mirror as he spoke. 

He quickly moved his hand on her abdomen lower, once again slipping his touch between her legs so he could rub circles onto her clit. Her legs were shaking, her entire body threatening to give way under his control. He knew her body well enough to know that she wouldn’t be able to resist her own climax for much longer, so he just leaned into her ear and said, “I want you to watch yourself come undone.”

With a few more desperate thrusts, he felt her tighten around him as she let out a mixture of a moan, gasp, and cry, her eyes glued to their own reflection as she finished around him. At that same moment, he grabbed her hips and held her against him as he came to the blissful sounds of pleasure that escaped her swollen lips. 

He barely had the energy to pull out after, though as soon as he did, both of them fell down atop the bed into a breathless mess of tangled limbs. Her eyes fluttered back open moments later, meeting his with a tired, yet adoring, look that made the corners of his lips twitch up into a slight smile. He took a few moments to steady his breathing before he was able to speak again. 

“Maybe I like celebrating Christmas, after all.” 


	40. Chapter 40

Avalon was able to sleep well that night. 

She dreamt of her friends, her peers, her home… but it wasn’t frightening, or even sad. It was serene, pleasant, and… well, it was peaceful. 

When she awoke, it was not to the sound of her own screams. Though, it also wasn’t to the sound of Tom’s heartbeat. 

She glanced around the room, noting his absence. With one look at the clock on his wall, she knew that he had most likely left to take his morning shower… to remain in bed a moment after 6 seemed to drive him mad. Though, sometimes, if his mood was right, he would make an exception to stay in bed with her for a little longer. 

Her eyes skirted down toward her wrist and a smile found its way onto her lips as she looked at the golden bracelet that she had been gifted. She tapped the silver stone, the subtle sound of Vivaldi filling her mind and quelling the silence that had overtaken the room. 

Still, even over the sounds of the symphony playing in her head, she was able to hear the rumbling of her starved stomach. Her thoughts were filled with scones, coffee, and marmalade… visions of the foods she craved doing nothing to quell the hunger that was devouring her insides.

Her fingers fumbled atop Tom’s nightstand for a moment, blindly searching for her wand. As soon as she felt it in her grasp, she flicked it towards the floor, her clothes summoning toward her before she grabbed them and began getting dressed. 

She decided to go run to the Kitchens and quickly grab breakfast, bringing it back for both her and Tom to enjoy. She typically waited for him to return to leave… she’d left a few times prior and he had been mildly upset when she returned, though her hunger was getting the best of her at the moment.

She sighed and decided to leave him a note, just in case he came back before she did. 

Avalon walked over to Tom’s desk to see if she could find any paper, but it appeared as though all the pages he had were all neatly organized school notes and assignments. It was quite safe for her to assume that he’d not be thrilled if she wrote over those, so she let out an agitated huff before grabbing a quill and then continuing to look around his room for any blank pages. 

There were none on his desk, nor near his bookshelf. A part of her mentally cursed the boy for being organized to the point of a fault-- it was impossible to find anything in his room if you didn’t already know where it was kept away.

She opened up the drawer on his nightstand and spotted a small leather notebook. There was nothing else in there, so she took hold of the book curiously. As she flipped it open and held it in her spare hand, she instantly noticed that there was nothing written inside. 

Triumphantly, she dipped the quill into a small pot of ink and began writing him a quick explanation of where she was going. 

_‘Good morning, Tom,’_ she wrote, pausing a moment to dip the quill in more ink.

Though, just before she began to write the next line, the words began to disappear off the page. 

She narrowed her eyes curiously on the book as her ink faded to nothingness. A look of confusion found its way onto her face when she began to see a new word slowly appear atop the blank page.

_‘Hello.’_

She watched the word fade, once more, leaving her with another blank page. It felt out of character for Riddle to have some sort of charmed joke diary, she thought. Though, the handwriting was unmistakably his. Hesitantly, she wrote once more.

_‘What is this?’_

Again, the words faded as she awaited a response. 

_‘Don’t go looking where you’re not wanted, Hendrix.’_

A chill ran down her spine as she saw her surname appear on the page, as if it were speaking directly to her. As if _he_ were speaking directly to her. Her hands trembled as she held the journal in her grasp. 

She didn’t want to admit it to herself, but she was quite positive she knew what she was holding: she’d found a Horcrux.

She’d fucking found a Horcrux.

As soon as the thought crossed her mind, she felt a sickening feeling rise within her. An overwhelming sense of dread, of anguish, of horror immediately flooded her senses. 

And then, the book slammed shut, falling from her startled fingers. 

She began stepping away from it, her eyes wide and frantic as she tried to get away from the notebook. The further she got, the less sick she felt. 

It was there.

One of the Horcruxes that she had been trying so desperately to find for the past few months. 

Her first step to saving her loved ones…

It was right fucking there. 

She slowly began walking toward it again. It felt as though she couldn’t even blink-- her eyes were glued so strictly to the closed book that she felt them starting to burn from remaining open for so long… she didn’t dare to even glance away for a moment. 

As she bent down and picked it up, her heart sunk so deep into the bottom of her chest that she felt as though she was going to throw up. Yet, still, she held onto it. 

_For Harry._

She stared.

_For Fred._

She stared.

_For Tonks._

She stared.

_For all the people she loved._

She stared.

_Tom…_

Her grip on the book loosened. 

_Traitor._

She heard footsteps in the hallway, her thoughts coming to an abrupt halt as she quickly shoved the book back into Tom’s nightstand, trying to hide the fact that she had seen it. Without a moment to spare, she ran over to his desk and hastily put back the quill and ink, too, managing to reorganize everything just as the door swung open and in walked Tom. 

His hair was still wet as he entered, his eyes immediately landing on Avalon. He narrowed his gaze a bit, a puzzled look flashing across his face as he took in her frantic eyes. “Everything alright?”

She swallowed down her nerves, doing her best to keep her voice steady as she said, “I had a nightmare.” It wasn’t exactly a lie.

His expression softened as he walked up to her and took her trembling hands into his own, quietly lifting them to his lips as he placed a soft kiss on her knuckles. “You’re okay now, right?” he asked, one of his hands slowly reaching up to cup her cheek. 

Before he could, she shifted away, forcing a smile as she nodded. “Right,” she said, her voice a little too cheery to be believable. “I have to run back to my room and take care of some things. I’ll see you later.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but she quickly made her way out of his room before the words left his mouth. 

She didn’t dare look back as she scrambled out of the Slytherin common room and out into the castle. She had heard him call after her, but it only made her dart out quicker. It felt as though her heart was about to burst out of her chest.

_Breathe. Breathe. Just fucking breathe._

The journey back to Ravenclaw’s dormitories was something she barely paid attention to. She merely stumbled blindly until she was in her room. The rest was all a muddled mess of history. 

She began pacing back and forth in her room, her hands shaking nervously as she walked. 

This was what she had come here for. To find the Horcruxes.

And she had finally found one. 

_Breathe. Breathe. Just fucking breathe._

One Horcrux found. Only one more to go.

_But then what?_

Then, she knew what had to be done. She would have to destroy both Horcruxes… and then kill Tom. 

Right? 

Well, not necessarily. 

Avalon ran her fingers through her hair, trying to think things through. The way she saw it: she was currently left with two different paths. She could, as she had originally planned, go through with the mission she came here to do. She could find the second Horcrux, destroy them both, and then kill Tom… that was still an option. And, more importantly, one that she had not yet fully crossed off.

The second path was the harder one, it seemed. To give up on destroying the Horcruxes… give up on killing Tom. And, instead, play a much riskier game of chance: try and save him from himself. If she could _change_ Tom… change him to become a better man… change him to never become the Dark Lord… then she wouldn’t have to kill him, after all. 

But, if she changed him… then what?

That was the part she hadn’t really thought too much about. That was the part she didn’t want to think about. If she was able to turn Tom into a better man, what was to say that he wouldn’t go right back to being his old self the moment she left and went back to her own time?

The harsh reality was that she could never know that he wouldn’t. She would never be able to leave this time if she wasn’t positive that he wouldn’t go back to what he used to be… she would never be able to know that for certain. 

If she decided to choose Tom… to choose to save Tom… she would never be able to go back home. 

But, what if she did kill him? She had been so busy thinking about the Horcruxes that she hadn’t even begun to think about how she was even planning on getting back to her own time. Was she supposed to break into the Ministry and steal a time turner? 

The sheer concept seemed quite out of the realm of possibility. What if she were to be caught before she stole it? They’d throw her in Azkaban and she’d never be able to even begin to think about killing Tom. No, she couldn’t risk something like that. 

She’d have to kill him before doing anything riskier. But, at that point, what if they found out she did it? She’d, once again, find herself in Azkaban. 

And, the more she thought about it… the more she realized that she might not even make it out alive if she tried to kill him. Her only idea about how to destroy the Horcruxes was by using Fiendfyre, but every book she read about that spell only made her realize one very crucial piece of information: Fiendfyre destroys _everything_ in its wake if not properly cast. 

She’d destroy the Horcruxes. She’d destroy Riddle.

And, more than likely, she’d destroy herself in the process.

The problem was, there was no way to practice the spell before she cast it. Maybe, she’d be able to successfully cast it and control it. Maybe she wouldn’t have to die. But, there was no way to know for sure. 

Was she prepared to die for this?

The answer was yes. With no hesitation, yes. 

Was she prepared to kill for this?

The answer was yes. With hesitation, yes.

She suddenly felt as though she needed to sit down. Her head was spinning too much to stay upright. So, she made her way over to her bed and hastily sat atop the mattress, looking at the ground before her with eyes that stared but barely saw. 

Everything was a blur. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the tears threatening to spill from her eyes or if it was because of the million scrambled thoughts in her head, but nothing was making sense. 

It seemed as though she had two paths before her… and neither one ended particularly well. 

_Your friends made the ultimate sacrifices for you… are you willing to do the same?_

The answer was yes. With a heavy heart, yes. 

She didn’t know what part of her she hated more: the part that was excited that she found a Horcrux, or the part that wasn’t. 

_Save Tom, be a traitor to your friends._

_Save your friends, be a traitor to Tom._

The only thing that seemed to be getting abundantly clear to her was that no matter what she did… it seemed as though she wouldn’t be able to save herself. 

She tried to focus. Focus on Tom. Focus on her goals. Focus on what was at stake.

What was at stake? 

Her friends. Her loved ones. The fate of so many innocent wizards and witches. 

The entire course of the future. 

But, at what cost?

At the expense of Tom’s life. 

Was trying to save him a risk that she could take?

Tom was getting better… she thought. He was opening up to her. He was trying to be a better person. He was kinder… more gentle… more considerate…

But, was that enough? 

Could someone like Tom truly be changed, or was he destined for darkness from the moment he was born? As much as she didn’t want to think about it, what if Tom’s so-called changes were nothing more than a facade that he was portraying to fool her into opening up to him? Did he even care for her, or was everything a lie?

 _No_ , she thought to herself. _It couldn’t be a lie… Not all of it, at least. He had admitted things under the effects of Veritaserum. Not all of this can be a lie._

_Have a little faith in him._

_Just not too much that you forget why you’re here._

She tugged at her hair and let out a groan of frustration. 

“Fuck,” she grumbled under her breath, shaking her head as she stood up and began making her way towards the door. 

Fresh air. 

She needed some fresh air. 

Her footsteps were sloppy and rushed as she bolted out of the room, out of the Tower, and into the castle corridors. It felt as though everything around her was nothing more than an indistinguishable blur. 

She barely noticed when she turned a corner and slammed into another startled body.

“Miss Hendrix… is everything alright?”

Her eyes met Dumbledore’s in a moment of pure desperation. “Yes,” she answered instinctively, but the look in his eyes was more than enough to let her know he didn’t buy her hasty lie. So, she corrected herself. “No, actually. Not quite.”

“Would you like to come to my office? Perhaps we can talk it through.”

“That would be wonderful, sir.”

They walked in silence until they made it to his office. Avalon chewed on the inside of her cheek as he opened the door and motioned for her to go inside. She wasn’t entirely sure what she wanted to talk to him about, but speaking to someone she knew from back home was a comfort that she knew she needed at the moment. 

Dumbledore closed the door behind her and slowly made his way over to his desk, leaning back on it before saying, “What is on your mind?”

“A lot,” she admitted. “When I first came here, I told you that I was trying to ensure that someone at this school avoided a terrible future… do you remember that, sir?” He nodded, a knowing look on his face. “You later told me that you believed that there are ways to change a path without burning the road. I have found myself in a position where I want to make sure I am still able to keep this student from going down a path of darkness… but I don’t know if that is possible without pursuing my original plan.”

Dumbledore stared at her for a moment, and she worried that she had been too unclear with her rambling. But, before she could clarify, the professor said, “I have seen Mr. Riddle change more in the past three months than I have in the past six years.”

Her eyes widened when he spoke of Tom. “Was I that obvious, sir?”

Dumbledore laughed. “When you’ve been a teacher for as long as I have, you become rather good at reading between the lines.”

She took in a deep breath before speaking again. “As comforting as that is to hear, Professor, I... I am not in a position where I can risk not being entirely certain of the outcome. The course of action you suggested to me _could_ work. But the plan I came here with _would_ work. And I don’t think I can have the outcome of my actions rely on _‘could_.’” Her mind strayed back to the death… the destruction… the injustice… the chaos… “There is far too much at stake for me to take unwarranted risks.”

She swore she saw Dumbledore’s face fall a little bit. His eyes flashed with a grave realization… almost as if he had seen the destruction with his own eyes. 

“I am not against trying to save someone from themselves,” she began, choosing her words carefully. “I just need to know that I am not setting myself up for failure… I need to know that they can be saved at all.”

“It takes a moment to break someone into pieces and a lifetime to put them back together. All it takes, however, is one person who believes in them enough to grant them patience while they find their way once more.” He sighed. “You will never know anything in life for certain, Miss Hendrix. But oftentimes, we discover that some people are worth the risk.” He paused for a moment before meeting her eyes. “Do you think that he is worth the risk, Miss Hendrix?”

The answer came out quicker than she thought it would. “I want him to be.”

“For now, perhaps that is enough.”

Her fingers began fumbling with the golden bracelet on her wrist as she thought of Tom.

She didn’t know how this would end. Perhaps all her efforts would be for nothing because maybe Tom Riddle was never meant to be changed.

But, as she tapped the silver stone and a quiet symphony began to flood through the silence, she knew that she wasn’t willing to give up on him just yet. 

A part of her feared that she was adopting the same blind optimism-- the same foolish hope-- that had gotten so many of her friends killed in the war. But, she also knew that no matter what happened, she would always be prepared to revert to her original plan if need be.

_The ultimate sacrifice._

She prayed with every fiber of her being that she was right about Tom. She hoped that he was worth her efforts-- that he could be saved. And she did, truly, believe that he _would_ be saved… from himself, from the darkness, and, ultimately, from _her_ and her mission.

So, she decided to keep trying with him. Because as long as there was even a slight chance that Tom Riddle could be redeemed, she thought that perhaps there was still a path to sparing both his life and the fate of the future. 

But, this time, she could not afford to be wrong. He could not prove her wrong. If he did, he’d leave her no choice but to go through with her original plan. And as much as she didn’t want to do that, she would. Because for her friends, she would do anything. Even if that meant giving up on Tom. 

She just hoped that it wouldn’t come to that. 

_Please_ , she thought. _Please don’t make me regret taking a chance with you._

_Because if you do, there’s no way we will both make it out of here alive._


	41. Chapter 41

Avalon stared at the wall before her. Morning was peeking through her window as the day broke into her room. Another sleepless night had passed, though this time, the nightmares hadn’t woken her up-- she hadn’t even been able to fall asleep, to begin with.

She knew that it was foolish of her to not have spent the night with Tom, but she needed time alone to get her thoughts clear. She needed to be sure that her decision to take a chance on him was truly her own and not something that had been influenced by his constant presence around her. 

A whole night passed, though, and her mind was still made up. She was going to do everything she could to save Tom Riddle from himself. 

She thought about the few days ahead. Today was her last day in the castle. By afternoon, she and Tom would be off to Nott’s estate to spend the last few days of the year surrounded by pureblood elitists. The thought made a chill run down her spine. She hoped and prayed that she would be able to keep her cover amidst all of them. It was one thing to lie about her background to the boys… but she worried about the possibility of their families being there when she arrived. Avery had said that his family and Nott’s go to Spain for the New Year, so she crossed her fingers and hoped that they would be gone when she and Tom arrived.

Thinking of Avery made her feel a little more at ease, though. She was growing to miss Orion and his bright smile. At least having him at the estate would make the trip much more bearable. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by the soft sound of knocking on her door. It was so quiet that she barely heard it, but still, she got to her feet and walked to the door, slowly opening it to reveal Tom standing at the entrance. 

“Good morning,” she said, stepping to the side to let him walk in. 

“You’re awake,” he noted as he strode in, impatiently tapping his foot as he awaited a response.

“I never slept,” she shrugged.

“You didn’t return last night.”

“I had things I needed to attend to,” she replied. 

He looked around at her room. “You haven’t even packed for Nott’s.”

She rolled her eyes and flicked her wand toward her closet, watching as an array of clothes slowly floated out and into her luggage before it neatly locked up. “Happy?”

“What’s the matter with you?” he asked, his voice clearly agitated. “You’ve been acting strange since yesterday morning.”

“Nothing,” she said, forcing a smile as she closed the gap between them and took his hand into her own as she looked up and met his accusing eyes. His frown faltered when she lifted his hands to her lips and pressed a soft kiss on his knuckles. “Let’s go to breakfast.” He let out a deep exhale, but didn’t complain as she got up on her tip-toes and kissed his cheek before quickly swiping her wand and getting dressed and ready. 

When she was done, he extended his hand, a hint of a smile finding its way back onto his lips as she laced their fingers together and the two of them made their way to the Great Hall for breakfast. They sat down at Slytherin’s table-- he still refused to sit anywhere else-- and her hands immediately darted toward the blueberry-lemon scones while he reached for his coffee. 

They held small conversation while they ate. He was still a little wary of her after she had so suddenly bolted from his room the day prior, and she was still shaken by the long night of going back and forth with herself in regards to whether or not she could put her faith in him.

They were both rather surprised when a golden-brown barn owl flew in through the rafters. Avalon recognized it as her roommate’s own owl immediately. As it flew closer and closer, both Tom and Avalon’s eyes widened when they saw the appearance of the letter it dropped off. 

A bright red envelope fell before Avalon, her name scribbled across the back in her roommate’s handwriting. She looked at it in horror before glancing over at a smug-looking Tom, a knowing smirk on his lips as they both stared at the Howler in front of them. 

“What have you done this time?” he asked, biting down on his bottom lip as he tried to conceal his amusement. 

“I haven’t done anything!” she protested.

“You have to open it or else it’ll explode, you know,” he said, matter-of-factly.

“I--”

“Well, go on. Open it,” he pressed, motioning towards the envelope with a grin. 

Avalon stared at the envelope for another moment, bracing herself for what was to come. With an exasperated groan, she opened it up… 

“ _ AVALON MARIE HENDRIX! I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU CAME HOME AFTER THE YULE BALL AND SPENT NOT ONE, BUT TWO WHOLE DAYS WITH ME AFTERWARDS. AND YOU KNOW WHAT DIDN’T COME UP IN CONVERSATION? THE FACT THAT YOU SHAGGED TOM BLOODY RIDDLE!” _

Tom nearly choked on his coffee, a laugh escaping his lips as Avalon felt her cheeks begin to burn red in horror. 

_ “YOU DIDN’T THINK THAT IT WAS IMPORTANT TO MENTION THAT YOU SLEPT WITH MR. I LOOK LIKE THE DEFINITION OF A SLYTHERIN? MR. ANTITHESIS TO ALL THAT IS HOLY? MR. BREAK YOUR ARM ON THE FIRST DAY OF CLASS? I MEAN BLOODY HELL, YOU MAY AS WELL HAVE SLEPT WITH SATAN HIMSELF. AND HERE I WAS THINKING YOU WERE OFF WITH LITTLE OLD ORION AVERY. BUT, NO! YOU WERE PLAYING TONGUE TAG WITH TOM.” _

Avalon didn’t know what was worse: the Howler reprimanding her, or Tom being incapable of holding back his own laughter. She swore she had never seen him look quite so pleased in his entire damn life. 

_ “AND AS IF THAT WEREN’T ENOUGH, YOU MEAN TO TELL ME YOU’VE BEEN SLEEPING WITH HIM EVER SINCE? I MEAN GOOD HEAVENS I LEAVE FOR TWO WEEKS AND ALL IT TAKES IS SOME CURLY HAIR AND NICE CHEEKBONES TO MAKE YOU FORGET WHO HE IS? I SWEAR ON MERLIN’S GRAVE IF THE TWO OF YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT GOING ANYWHERE NEAR MY BED…”  _

Avalon hid her face in her hands, desperately praying her roommate’s Howler was near finished. In that moment, she wondered if letting the envelope explode in her face may have been the less humiliating option. 

_ “AND IF HE IS SITTING WITH YOU RIGHT NOW… I HAVE SOME WORDS FOR HIM AS WELL. TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE--”  _ the smile on Tom’s face turned into slight confusion as the Howler turned toward him “-- _ IF YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT HURTING AVALON… IF YOU ARE THE REASON BEHIND HER TEARS… IF YOU ARE THE REASON BEHIND HER SADNESS… IF SHE SO MUCH AS GETS A PAPERCUT IN YOUR GODDAMN PRESENCE… I WILL END YOU. DO YOU HEAR ME? END YOU!” _

“Oh my God,” Avalon grumbled, still hiding her face.

“ _ ALL THINGS CONSIDERED, DO I TRUST YOUR JUDGEMENT? I MEAN… YOU MAKE IT HARD. BUT I DO, LOVE, I DO. JUST… TOM RIDDLE? BLOODY HELL… Anyway, love and miss you! Merry late Christmas and happy early New Year’s! Have fun at Nott’s!” _

And without another word, the letter burst into flames and fell onto the table into a small pile of discarded ashes. 

The two of them sat in silence for a moment before Tom quietly said, “How the bloody hell did she know my middle name?” He glanced over at a still-speechless Avalon, laughing when he noted how it really took a Howler from Zelda Shacklebolt to silence the loudest mouth he had ever met. “So, I take it you told Shacklebolt.” 

“I may have mentioned it,” she grumbled.

“Honestly, I would have expected worse from her,” he chuckled, looking at the ashes before them. “I mean--”

“Just… shut up, Tom,” she sighed, shaking her head. 

The grin on his lips didn’t go away, though, as he took a sip of his coffee and muttered, “What is it with you women and my cheekbones…”

\-----

The pair walked hand in hand to Hogsmeade, the tense mood of the morning a thing of the past as they laughed and talked all the way to the little town, their suitcases levitating behind them. When they reached the edge of the Hogwarts grounds, past the anti-Apparition wards, they stopped for a moment and tapped their luggage, watching as it slowly drifted back onto the ground and they could pick it up. 

“Ready?” he asked, giving her hand a slight squeeze. 

“Ready,” she nodded. 

He focused on the Nott estate, apparating the two of them to their destination with a loud  _ crack _ .

When they arrived at the ornate golden gate, Avalon’s jaw nearly dropped when she saw the large home before them. She had known that Nott was wealthy… but…

It appeared to be a three-story estate, ivy vines wrapping up along the sides of the light, brick home. Grand fountains led to the entrance, evergreen bushes lining the gardens in the midst of the harsh winter. 

Tom let go of her hand when they arrived, using his newly freed hand to push the grand gates open. He didn’t take her hand again, instead opting to flick his wand back toward their luggage and have it follow behind them as they strode to the front door, following the paved path all the way to the grand entrance. 

When they got to the front of the estate, Tom knocked on the door and only a moment later, Axel opened it, Rosalie attached at his hip. 

“Welcome,” the beaming Seeker greeted them with a smile. 

“Oh, I’m so glad to see you!” Rosalie said, pushing past Tom and wrapping Avalon in a tight hug. Tom rolled his eyes, never having been Greengrass’ biggest fan, and walked in, getting into conversation with Nott, instead. 

“So glad to see you, too,” Avalon laughed, returning Rosalie’s embrace. 

“Is it them? Tell me it’s them!” a familiar voice called out from inside. Orion scrambled to the front door, his eyes widening when he saw Avalon and Tom. “Ava!” He ran over, making it to Avalon just a moment after Rosalie quickly let go of her and hopped out of his way. She let out a small gasp as he picked her up and spun her around, his arms wrapping around her the moment her feet hit the ground. “It’s good to see the both of you are still alive,” he said, resting his chin atop her head as he grinned at Tom. 

Avalon laughed, but Tom only rolled his eyes. 

“Come on in,” Axel said, motioning for Avalon to join them inside. “Our families went out for a stroll. You two have plenty of time to get settled before dinner.”

Avalon smiled and entered, Orion’s arms still wrapped around her shoulders as they walked. Tom glanced at the two of them with a slight scowl on his lips, though he took in a deep breath and shifted his gaze to avoid watching them. 

As they walked deeper into the house, Avalon’s eyes landed on Adonis and Xavier, both lounging in the living room, sprawled across the couches. Xavier’s eyes met hers for a moment and she felt a chill run down her spine as he lifted his glass to his lips and slowly took a sip of the dark liquid he had poured, never once shifting his gaze from hers. She tore her eyes away and shook her head, choosing not to focus on him as she followed Axel, Rosalie, Orion, and Tom.

“I can show you two to your rooms,” Axel said. 

“I can take Ava to her room,” Orion offered, earning a slight glare from Tom. Avalon tried to catch his eyes, but he seemed to avoid her gaze from the moment they stepped foot into the house. 

“I’m in the same room as usual, I presume?” Tom asked, to which Axel nodded. “Then I can show myself the way. I’ll see you all at dinner,” he said, walking up the stairs and down the hall without another word. 

Avalon watched as he walked away, her lips downturned into a faint scowl, but the feeling of Orion’s hand on her shoulder broke her out of her thoughts. “Let’s go, shall we?” he said with a bright smile, gently guiding her upstairs as her suitcase followed closely behind them. 

As they began leaving the rest of the group behind, Avalon asked, “So, how has your break been thus far?”

“It’s been rather nice. For the most part, it has just been my family and Nott’s, plus Rosalie, spending our time here. Lestrange and Rosier got here just a little bit before you,” he grumbled, his voice laced with hatred. 

“Is Demitri not here?” she asked, noting Mulciber’s absence. 

“He typically spends most of his break at home with his family and joins us for the last few days, after our parents have left,” he chuckled. “He waits for the house to be empty before he shows up with his debauchery.” 

He led her down the hallway until they stopped before an intricately carved, mahogany door. He pushed it open, revealing an enormous room with ornate gold finishes scattered along the grand furniture. In the center was the largest bed she had ever seen in her life, white silk sheets draping down from the four tall posts. 

“Wow,” she breathed out, stepping in and looking up at the glimmering chandelier above her. 

“Bit different from the Hogwarts dorms, but it’ll do,” Orion said with a chuckle as he sat down on the bed, flicking his wand toward the door and watching it close behind them. 

When she met his eyes, there was a knowing smirk on his lips. “What?” she asked.

“Well? Tell me about your break so far,” he said, biting back his grin. 

“It’s been lovely,” she started. “The Great Hall is empty, so I can sit wherever I want.”

“And?” 

“And some of the professors are still there…”

“And?”

“And I’ve gotten to have the library all to myself…”

“... And…?” he pressed, taking a hold of her wrist and dragging her down to sit on the bed beside him. 

She shrugged, trying to act as though she didn’t know what he was referring to. “And Tossy and Bonsey send their best.”

“Avalon, if you don’t tell me about Riddle right now-”

“I haven’t the slightest clue what you’re talking about,” she said, feigning surprise.

“Alright,” he said, standing up and walking over to her suitcase. He picked it up with an exasperated sigh and began walking to the door. “You’ve left me no choice but to uninvite you.”

“Orion,” she laughed, standing up and running to him, yanking his arm back. 

“No choice,” he repeated, reaching for the doorknob dramatically. 

“Alright, alright! What the bloody hell do you want to know, you nosy bastard?”

Her admission of defeat was enough for him to put her suitcase back down and smile triumphantly as he leaned against the wall. “Have you two been getting along?”

“Well enough,” she shrugged. 

He rolled his eyes, flicking his wand toward her. She felt her skin tingle a bit and glanced at herself in the mirror, her eyes widening when she saw the concealment charm she had used to cover the bruises and lovebites on her skin fade away, once again revealing the litter of purple marks all over her neck. “What the hell-”

“Every charm has a countercharm,” he winked. “I knew it! I bloody knew the two of you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off each other.” He gasped, clutching imaginary pearls around his neck as he pretended to be shocked. “The surprise! The scandal! The-”

“Knock it off, you prick!” she said, whacking his arm as her cheeks grew redder and redder. “I swear, I can’t tell you anything,” she grumbled as she threw her hands up in the air and stomped back over to the bed, plopping down with a huff. 

“And yet somehow, you still tell me everything,” he said in a sing-song voice as he sat beside her. 

“Well, from now on that’s changing,” she mumbled. 

“I’m only kidding, you know that,” he said, wrapping his arms around her from the side, playfully nudging his head into her shoulder. “I’m merely trying to secure my invite to the wedding.”

“You’re such a pain,” she pouted, trying to hold back her laughter. “And anyway--” she said as she shoved him, nearly forcing him to stumble off the bed, “-- that’s absurd.”

“What is? The thought of Tom Riddle getting married, or the fact that you’re going to be the bride?” 

“Shut up!” she grumbled, this time flickering her wand toward him and watching as he plopped off the bed, falling down in a fit of laughter. He began propping himself back up again when they both turned to see Rosalie burst in. 

“I brought two dresses that I thought you might like--” the blonde finally looked up, her wide eyes reveling in shock as she looked at Orion on the floor in front of Avalon, whose neck was still covered in an array of purple marks. “Oh! I’m sorry,” she chirped, rushing out of the room and shutting the door, leaving behind a cackling Avalon and Orion. 

Avalon quickly got up, extending a hand and helping Avery back to his feet as the two of them doubled over in laughter. “Now you’ve done it,” she scolded Orion as he shook his head, smiling. He quickly cast another concealment charm on her, the bruises fading to nothingness once more as Avalon playfully rolled her eyes at him and then ran down the hall after a mortified Rosalie. “Rosie! Wait up! I do need a dress for dinner!”

\----------

Avalon pinned back her hair the way Rosalie had shown her, making sure to neatly tuck all loose strands into the elegant bun in the back. She flattened out the white dress that she had borrowed and looked at her reflection. It was a rather conservative look, though Rosalie had insisted that it was best to dress properly when meeting the Notts and Averys. 

There was a growing pit in her stomach as she looked in the mirror. She felt like a fraud. Uneasiness overtook her as she thought about how she was about to walk into a room filled with high society, well-connected blood-purists. There was nobody there to lie for her-- no Dumbledore to cover for her past, nobody to help her, no room for mistake. The one person who she knew would stand up for her-- Orion-- had no idea what lies she was even harboring. She was, in every sense of the word, alone. 

Questions began floating around in her head about why she had even agreed to come along. Had she known their families would be here, she definitely would have given it much more thought and, most likely, decided to stay at Hogwarts in the comfort and safety of her own bloody dorm. But, instead, here she was, about to have dinner with some of the most powerful people in the wizarding world.

She took a deep breath and walked out the door, carefully stepping down the stairs and toward the sound of chattering coming from the main parlor. It felt as though she were walking into a lion’s den from the moment all of their eyes turned and landed on her. 

She forced a polite smile as she walked toward the group, thankful for Orion as he came over and took a hold of her arm, linking it with his own. “Come meet my family.”

He dragged her toward his parents, who were standing beside Tom, Axel, Rosalie, and Axel’s parents. She tried to bite down her anxiety as they approached the parents. Tom was deep in conversation with a brunette man standing beside a blonde woman. 

It was rather obvious who everyone was: Orion’s parents stood to the right, while Axel’s were to the left. Orion was a near spitting image of his mom-- he had her blond hair, her blue eyes, and delicate smile, while Nott was a spitting image of his dad. Avery’s dad cut off his conversation with Tom as he watched Avalon and Orion walk over, arms linked, and she saw Tom’s perfectly crafted plastic smile tense up a bit as he watched them walk over. She paid it no mind, however, and instead glanced to the side and saw Xavier and Adonis speaking to someone a few years older than them who looked strikingly similar to Orion’s father, with the same light brown hair and blue eyes-- but, they weren’t blue in the same way Orion’s were. Orion’s eyes, and his mother’s, were the color of the ocean, bright and beautiful, while his brother and father’s were the color of a dying storm. A mixture of blue and grey that felt cold from the moment their gazes met hers. 

“Everyone, this is my good friend, Avalon Hendrix. Ava, this is my mother,” he motioned towards the petite blond, who offered a gentle smile, “my father,” he said, nodding towards his brunette father, “and my brother is…” he glanced around before his eyes landed on his brother, standing to the side with Lestrange and Rosier, deep in conversation as the three of them sipped on their drinks and laughed together. “... I’ll introduce you to Alistair later. And this is Mr. and Mrs. Nott,” he said with a smile, motioning toward Axel’s parents. 

“It is a pleasure to meet you all,” she said, trying to keep her voice as level as possible. “Thank you for allowing me to spend the end of the year at your home,” she added, looking at the Notts. 

“We are thrilled to have you,” replied Mrs. Nott, her voice clear and polite. 

“And we have heard so many wonderful things about you,” said Mrs. Avery. “Orion has spoken a great deal of you.”

“Oh, has he?” she said, smiling at Orion who just shrugged and gave her arm a little squeeze.

“He has,” he grinned. “Now that we’re all acquainted, shall we go be seated for dinner?”

“We have a lovely meal prepared for you all. Please, follow me,” Nott’s mother said as she began leading them all toward the grand dining room. A large oak table stretched out across the room, a green, silk table-runner with golden candelabras and a beautiful variety of magnificent flowers artfully placed atop it. Gold plated dishes with matching utensils were neatly placed before each seat and as the two fathers took the seats at the ends of the table, everyone began sitting down after them. 

Avalon sat beside Orion, who was across his mother and brother, while Tom took the seat next to her. As much as she wanted to believe that Tom wanted to sit beside her, she could see it in his eyes that the only reason he sat there was to be as close to Avery’s father as he could be. His face was strewn with the same charming smile that she had seen him use so many times before, in instances where he put on a front to appeal to those he wanted to gain something from. It was abundantly clear to her that Tom came to this gathering every year to grow closer with those he thought to be powerful. 

She heard clumsy footsteps drag into the room as a younger boy stumbled in, his blue eyes bored as he took a seat near Axel. Avalon recognized him from around the castle to be Nott’s younger brother. She felt a slight smile creep onto her lips as she watched the boy look as though he would rather be anywhere else in the world than at that dinner table. 

Xavier sat beside Alistair, the two apparently rather close as they chatted at the table, right across from Tom. When Avalon sat down, Orion’s older brother turned his attention toward her. “Avalon, is it?”

She nodded politely, though she could sense Orion tensing up beside her as his brother looked her up and down. “My apologies that I missed your introduction earlier. Xavier and I were merely in the midst of catching up. But, I am pleased to make your acquaintance.” 

“Likewise,” she said, though as he sat back in his chair, cold eyes still glued to her as the rest of the table got settled, she couldn’t shake the unrest quelling within her. Orion and Alistair gave off two entirely different auras: where Orion was warm and kind, Alistair was chilling and arrogant. She could sense it in just the way he looked at her, just the way he sat back in his chair, just the way he held his chin up as he scanned the rest of the room with a sense of authority. She suddenly understood why Orion spoke of him so little.

Mrs. Nott clapped her hands and their plates were instantly filled with a beautiful feast of elegantly assorted foods. “Please, enjoy.”

Avalon carefully placed her napkin on her lap before she picked up her utensils and began eating. The interrogation began shortly after. 

“Avalon,” Mr. Avery said, drawing her attention. “I hear you are a Ravenclaw. How did you find yourself in the midst of so many Slytherins?”

She forced a smile, turning her attention to the person she despised most in the room. “Xavier introduced me to the group. He was rather...” she paused, sending a pointed glare at him while her lips remained twisted into a sweet smile, “... persistent.” 

Orion gently put a hand on her arm beneath the table, but she just stared down the smirking heir across the table. His green eyes bore into hers, though he masked his distaste behind a perfect grin. 

“What a stroke of good fortune that your path crossed with Xavier, then,” Mrs. Avery smiled. 

Avalon lightly laughed to herself, nodding. “Quite.”

“Xavier, darling,” Nott’s mother said, drawing his attention. “How are your parents?”

“They’re doing great, Genevieve,” he smiled. Avalon had to fight the urge to scoff as she watched the parents all listen to him adoringly. “I spent the first part of the holiday with them in our property on the coast of Amalfi. They send their best and told me to make sure to extend an invite to you all so they can see you soon.”

“We would love to catch up with them, as well. I will make sure to send an owl,” Mrs. Nott said, her face beaming with joy. 

“Tom, dear, we heard that you’ve been chosen to be the next Head Boy!” said Orion’s mother, turning her attention to him instead.. 

“I was informed recently, yes,” Tom said politely as he took a sip from his cup. 

“As though they would have chosen anyone else,” Axel’s mother chimed in, looking at Tom with admiration. 

“Perhaps after you graduate, you can take a position in my Department alongside Alistair,” Mr. Avery intercepted hopefully. 

“Or in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement under my command,” Mr. Nott added. “We are always looking for talented wizards to join our ranks.”

Avalon tried to bite back the laugh that threatened to leave her lips. She couldn’t possibly imagine Tom working under anyone’s command-- he was far too power-hungry to ever bow down to anyone, though by the looks of it, he had everyone here fooled. Once again, Tom Riddle was proving to her that he had the ability to wrap anyone and everyone around his finger… 

“I’m honored that the two of you would offer those opportunities to me,” he smiled. “Though, we will see where I am a year from now.”

Everything felt so formal. The conversation, the etiquette, the company. Avalon felt as though she were surrounded by empty words and strategic networking. She supposed that was to be expected when surrounded by a pool of Slytherins. 

For a brief moment, her eyes met Axel’s from across the table and he offered her an apologetic smile and a roll of his eyes as his parents and Orion’s continued to fawn over Tom for a few more minutes. Their words blended into nothingness as she quietly ate her food and returned Axel’s smile right before he turned his attention back to Rosalie and whispered something into her ear, making her giggle. 

“Orion tells us that you transferred from Durmstrang?” 

Her attention was quickly drawn back to Mr. Avery as he looked at her, awaiting an answer. She took a sip from her glass, quickly washing down her bite before nodding. “I did, yes.” 

“We almost sent Axel and Nathaniel to Durmstrang,” Mr. Nott said, nodding towards his two sons. “How did you enjoy your experience there?”

“It was quite nice,” she said, trying to share as little as possible. “Very different from Hogwarts.”

“In what way?” Alistair interjected, his sudden interest throwing her off guard. 

“Durmstrang was a great institution, but Hogwarts felt more like a home to me from the moment I arrived. They both provide great academics, but for me, Hogwarts gave me a greater sense of belonging,” she said carefully. 

“Sometimes I regret sending the boys to Hogwarts,” Mr. Avery said, a scowl on his lips. “That spineless imbecile, Dippet, runs the school like a charity case.”

“They will admit anyone nowadays,” Alistair said with a roll of his eyes, to which his father nodded.

“At least at Durmstrang, they know how to keep out the mudbloods,” said Mr. Avery, earning a light chorus of laughter and agreement from the table. Orion took in a deep breath and gave her arm another gentle squeeze beneath the table, the two of them keeping their faces stoic as their peers all chuckled among themselves. Avalon stole a glance toward Tom who had his cup placed at his lips, taking a long drink as he listened to the conversation. 

Every time she was reminded of the blood-prejudices within this group, it sent a pang of sadness through her. To see Xavier and Adonis laugh along with the parents was nothing too surprising-- she expected no better from them. But, watching Axel and Rosalie chime in was particularly disheartening. It was yet another brutal reminder that the people she was surrounded by would not be nearly as kind to her if they knew her true blood-status. 

The way they put Tom on a pedestal, constantly praising him and treating him as if he were their own son… she wondered how quickly that would disappear if they knew the truth about him, too. How he had crafted such a meticulous lie about his upbringing was beyond her. 

“The school must be rather good if they taught the most powerful wizard of our time,” Alistair noted, referring to Grindelwald. 

“Mind you, he was expelled, brother,” Orion pointed out, his voice condemning as he glared at Alistair across the table. 

“They were most likely threatened by his capabilities,” Alistair shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. “Not everyone can see eye to eye with his vision.”

“His  _ vision _ landed both Rosalie and Xavier in the hospital after the Alliance attacked Hogsmeade,” Avalon frowned, unable to keep her mouth shut. She noticed Tom and Orion both tense up on either side of her the moment she opened her mouth, but the feeling of every pair of eyes at the table suddenly landing on her distracted her enough.

“Perhaps if Dippet had secured the area better, that all could have been avoided,” Axel’s father said. 

“The ancient fool put so many lives in danger with his negligence,” Axel scowled, putting a hand on Rosalie’s as he spoke. “He’s lucky to still be Headmaster after that disaster.” Xavier leaned over to Alistair and said something to Orion’s brother, the two of them bursting into hearty laughter. 

“You’d rather blame him than the terrorists who orchestrated the attack?” Avalon inquired before turning her attention to Xavier. “I’m surprised you’re laughing. You may not remember that night in the hospital, but I do… if I recall correctly, you were screaming out in pain for hours.”

His eyes darkened as his lips twisted up into an empty smile and he said, “I remember more about that night than you think,  _ darling _ .” 

The words echoed in her mind as she suddenly felt her appetite slip away from her, leaving her speechless at the ominous dig. Tom sent a pointed glare at the smiling boy and the moment their eyes met, Xavier’s amusement quickly faded from his lips, though she saw a hint of a smile return to his face as he raised his glass to his lips and drank. 

Mrs. Avery looked between Xavier and Rosalie as she said, “We’re so glad the two of you are alright now.”

Mr. Nott turned to Avalon, a smile on his lips despite the pointed tone to his voice when he said, “You’re quite an opinionated young woman, Miss Hendrix.”

“Is that something you picked up from your aunt?” Orion’s father asked. 

She glanced at Orion, trying to regain her composure as she prayed her friend hadn’t spilled too much about her upbringing to his parents. She nodded before saying, “I look up to her a great deal.”

“Is she your mother’s sister or your father’s?” Mr. Avery asked.

“Mother’s,” she replied.

“Your last name,” he said slowly, keeping a tight-lipped smile on his lips, “I haven’t heard it before.”

She felt her own smile falter for a moment as she tried to come up with a valid reason why her muggle-born father’s last name didn’t ring a bell. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, Tom chimed in and said, “Perhaps Avalon can one day introduce us to the pureblood families of Eastern Europe.” Both Avery and Nott’s fathers were ready to ask a follow-up question when Tom continued, “Mr. Avery, Mr. Nott, do share more about the project we were discussing in the foyer. I’d love to learn about it further.”

The topic of conversation quickly shifted as the Ministry heads began discussing their current projects, soon forgetting about their interrogation into Avalon’s past. She looked over at Tom, trying to meet his gaze, but his attention was far too focused on Orion’s father as he smiled and laughed along with their empty conversation. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding in before she glanced at Orion and the two of them shared a disheartened look. He sighed and leaned over, whispering into her ear, “All things considered, I’d say you didn’t do too bad.”

She chuckled, shaking her head as she grumbled, “I’ll be surprised if they let me stay another minute.”

“They’ll be gone in the morning. Just be valiant for a little longer,” he grinned before leaning back into his chair and taking a drink while the conversation continued around them. 

  
  


\----------

  
  


Several hours later, Avalon finally took off Rosalie’s white dress the moment she was back in the comfort of her room, slipping into a black, silk nightgown as she angrily took her hair out of her updo and tried not to think any more of the dinner she sat through. 

The rest of the night had progressed in much of the same manner-- filled with empty conversation, feigned pleasantries, and the occasional thinly-veiled reminder of the prejudices that surrounded her. For the most part, she tried to keep her mouth shut for the remainder of the night, though she did get into a minor argument with Alistair when he brought up his belief that Hogwarts should adopt Durmstrang’s policy of not admitting muggle-born witches and wizards. 

The more time she spent with his family, the more she understood why Orion found it necessary to keep his relationship with Clara a secret. It was a miracle how he, himself, had managed to break free of their horrific views, but it seemed as though their discrimination and hatred ran far too deep to be amended any time soon. The entire time, she felt as though she were a fish out of water, constantly struggling to breathe in the midst of such a crippling fear of slipping up and exposing her own secrets. 

It was horrific to see, first hand, the terrible views that the pureblood elites held. Growing up surrounded by her own friends, she had always been in a rather nice bubble of acceptance-- blood status didn’t matter to their group. Her first real exposure to those deep hatreds was Draco Malfoy’s snide remarks to Hermione, but all she could think about was how those small jabs later progressed to the blond boy becoming a Death Eater, himself. 

Avalon had never been friends with Malfoy, though to watch her own classmates join the dark side had hurt her more than she would have liked to admit. Perhaps she had been naive to think that her peers would never turn against their classmates, but she had been wrong. 

After the war-- after seeing innocent witches and wizards slaughtered in the streets over something as trivial as their blood… it made her sick to think about how some of the people surrounding her in this house would one day have their descendants be some of the Dark Lord’s most devout followers-- she didn’t want to think about it, but she wondered if any of the boys would be destined to become Death Eaters, themselves.

_ No _ , she had to tell herself.  _ They won’t be Death Eaters because there won’t be any Death Eaters in a world where Lord Voldemort never exists. That’s why I’m here. To ensure that doesn’t happen. _

She couldn’t quell the irritation that grew within her as she thought about Tom. How he had been so silent and complacent while those around him were saying such vile things. She wasn’t naive, she didn’t expect him to suddenly become a muggle-born sympathizer. But, still, to watch him ignore her and essentially side with the blood-supremacists despite he, himself, being a half-blood… despite knowing all the horrible things that had been done to her because of those views… despite knowing that some of her closest friends are muggle-borns who have saved her own life time and time again. 

To say she was disappointed was an understatement. 

She heard a knock on the door and quickly scurried over, expecting to see Orion on the other end. Though, when she opened the door and was greeted by the same dark eyes that had been avoiding her all day, she crossed her arms. “Can I help you?”

Tom rolled his eyes as he made his way past her and walked into the room, earning an annoyed huff from her as she shut the door behind them and waved her wand at the door, silencing the room. He raised an eyebrow when she cast the silencing charm. “What’s that for?”

“So they don’t hear me when I yell at you,” she shot back. 

“As if that’s any worse than what you’ve already done,” he said, shaking his head. 

“Excuse me?”

“Quite a show you put on at dinner.”

“What the bloody hell are you talking about?”

“What am I talking about? I don’t know, perhaps it has something to do with how you and Avery have been joined at the hip since we arrived, looking like you’re bloody in love? Or, maybe, it’s the way you lectured blood-purists about your love for muggle-borns… in their own house, no less.”

“Wait a second,” she frowned. “You practically ignore me from the moment we get here… won’t even  _ look _ my way during dinner, and suddenly you have the bloody audacity to tell me not to spend time with my  _ friend _ ? Who do you think you are?”

“Friends? Is that what you call being friendly?”

“Yes, Tom! It is! Orion is my bloody  _ friend _ . He makes me smile, he makes me laugh, and he makes me happy. That is what friends fucking do! I’m sorry that you’ve never experienced that-- you’ve been too busy making every relationship in your life a bloody transaction to ever form any meaningful connections.”

“You’re impossible,” he said, running his hand through his hair. “And so bloody critical! All you had to do was stay quiet for one dinner, and you couldn’t manage to do that.”

“When have you  _ ever _ known me to be quiet?” she asked, throwing her hands up in the air in exasperation.

“Never, that’s your problem,” he said, pacing the room angrily. “You don’t know when it’s best to keep your mouth shut.”

“I’d much rather have a big mouth than no spine,” she snarled. 

He stopped in his tracks, turning to face her once more when he answered, “And by that you mean?”

“I mean you just  _ sat _ there! You sat there and you let them say those horrible things even after everything I have told you about my own past!” She tugged at her hair, shaking her head as she thought back to his complacency during dinner. 

“And what was I supposed to do, Avalon? Run my mouth like you and get on their bad side?”

“Knowing a fraction of what I’ve been through, there were a thousand things that you could have done that would have been infinitely better than what you did.”

He almost looked caught off-guard by her anger, his own demeanor quickly shifting to match her energy. “You said it yourself: connections are everything. I have spent far too many years solidifying my relationships with these people so I can get what I need out of them-- I don’t intend to lose sight of that over one failed dinner party.”

“And what is it that you need out of them, Tom?” she hissed.

“Power,” he growled. “Need I remind you that not all of us are born with the same privilege that Lestrange and Avery have had their entire lives. Some of us have to work our way to get the resources we need to be leaders.”

“A leader?” she scoffed, holding back a laugh. “How could you be a leader when all you are capable of doing is following.” She saw his eyes flash with anger and she rolled her eyes. “You kiss the ground that these people walk on, and for what? Do you think they would allow you to even step foot in this house if they knew the truth about you?”

“Watch your mouth,” he shot back, advancing toward her as he spoke. “The fact that you can talk to them in that way is a luxury reserved for those with the right blood-status. For purebloods, defending muggle-borns is nothing more than a debate. For me, it could cost me the reputation I have spent so long creating!”

“Then tell me how a fucking half-blood like myself can speak up for them, but you’re too much of a bloody coward to do the same?!” she screamed. He fell silent, his eyes widening at her outburst as he played the words over again in his head. She laughed at his bewildered eyes. “That’s right. I’m a fucking half-blood. My father was muggle-born. Are you bloody happy?”

He shook his head in denial. “You’re lying.”

“No, Tom, I’m not. Dumbledore was right-- you and I have more in common than we want to fucking admit!” she said, walking up to him and jabbing a finger into his chest. “And just so we are entirely clear… if you  _ dare _ try and expose that to anyone, I  _ will _ take you down with me.”

“And you can expect the same from me,” he retorted angrily, grabbing a hold of her wrist. “Merlin, Avalon, is there anything about you that isn’t a lie?”

“I don’t know, you tell me. Since you’re constantly telling me I’m a terrible liar,” she grumbled, yanking her hand away from him. 

“Evidently, it appears you’re much better at it than I thought,” he spat. 

“I said it before: I have been honest about everything that matters.”

She watched as the anger in his eyes subdued to genuine frustration when he spoke once more. “And this doesn’t matter? None of these things matter? You can’t decide what gets to matter and what doesn’t!”

“Why should my blood status matter?!” she yelled, growing more and more irritated by the second.

“Merlin, it’s not that I care about your blood-status, it’s that it is a part of who you are! And you hid it from me!” He tugged at his hair, shaking his head as he let out a sigh. “I’m  _ trying _ , Avalon. I’m trying to get to know you and I’m trying to understand you, but you make it so goddamn difficult because you’re such a bloody  _ liar _ .”

“I’d rather be a liar than a coward,” she said, glaring daggers at him. 

“A coward?” he repeated incredulously. “You’re calling me a coward?”

“Yes, I am! You won’t speak up against things that you know aren’t right because you’re too afraid of upsetting those above you. You’re cowardly,” she snarled, shoving him back and watching as he took a step back. “Spineless,” she said, advancing on him once more as he took another step back. “ _ Weak _ .”

“And you are  _ fake _ ,” he said, his eyes dark with anger once more. “A hypocrite.” He turned his back to her, heading toward the door before he whipped back around and shot out, “You’re naive, Hendrix.”

“I know the consequences of those prejudices far better than you, far better than them, and far better than most people that we bloody know,” she scoffed, her voice cold as ice. “I have seen the darkest aspects of what those beliefs can manifest into, Riddle. I am far from fucking naive.”

“Then stop acting as though you are,” he hissed before storming towards the door and walking out, slamming it shut behind him and leaving her alone in the silence that overtook the room. And for once, she had no intention of tapping the bracelet on her wrist and listening to any music to mask it. 


	42. Chapter 42

It was times like this when Avalon cursed the fact that she couldn’t fall asleep on her own. 

She stared blankly at the window before her, watching the dark night sky as she neared her second sleepless night in a row. 

Her fight with Tom echoed through her mind on an endless cycle for the past three hours, tormenting her thoughts with constant reminders of the words they had both lashed out at one another. 

The first hour she had paced back and forth. She had been angry. 

The second hour she sat down on the bed. She had been confused. 

Now, she sat on the windowsill. She was tired.

Tired of fighting, tired of being angry, tired of the headaches, tired of not sleeping. 

As much as she hated admitting it to herself, with time, she began to understand his silence during dinner. She wanted to believe that he had changed, and to a certain extent maybe he had, but to expect him to valiantly defend muggle-borns alongside her when surrounded by a pool of blood-purists that he knew and respected may have been too far a stepping stone for him to reach yet… that much she would admit. But she still wasn’t happy about how he had reacted after dinner. 

She walked to the door several times, debating if she should leave and go speak with Orion to hear his opinion on the situation. But, she already knew what her friend would tell her.

That she and Tom merely needed to ‘work on their communication.’ 

She hated that he was right. Still, it did take all of the three hours to actually build up the energy she needed to admit that to herself. Reluctantly, she stood and began walking toward the door once more. It physically pained her to drag herself off the windowsill and toward the exit, her stubborn nature making it nearly impossible to brace herself for the conversation she was about to have with Tom, but still, she made it to the door and put her hand on the knob, taking in a deep breath before opening it.

She hadn’t expected to see Tom standing outside the door, ready to knock right as she swung it open. His eyes widened when they met hers.

“I was just-”

“I thought-”

They both spoke at the same time, cutting each other off by accident. 

She peeked her head out and scanned the empty hallway. It was far too late for anyone else to be awake at this hour, so she stepped to the side, motioning for him to come in. He sighed and strode in, standing in the middle of the room as she waved her wand at the door and re-cast a silencing charm. 

Her eyes had deep-set bags underneath them again, he noted. She needed rest. He began to open his mouth to speak when she said, “I was just coming to speak with you, too.”

“Not quite finished yelling at me yet?” he asked pointedly. 

She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms as she avoided his gaze. “Actually, no,” she muttered. “I thought that perhaps we could try… talking out our problems.” 

“That doesn’t sound like us,” he said, a hint of a laugh in his voice as he watched the corners of her lips tilt upward into a subtle smile. 

She finally looked back up and met his eyes, her smile widening when she saw the glint of amusement in his stare. “No, it doesn’t, does it?” Slowly, she made her way over to the bed and sat down on the edge, watching as he followed behind and took his spot leaning against one of its four pillars. “I need you to understand things from my point of view, though.”

He nodded, opting not to speak and only listen as she took in a deep breath. 

“During dinner, I know you would have liked for me to remain quiet and keep my mouth shut, but I can’t do that. Not when those are the same ideologies behind the reason why so many people I love are now dead,” she said, staring blankly at the floor before them. “I can’t just stay silent. It would go against everything that I have fought for, everything that my friends have died for, and everything that I stand for.” She shook her head, running a hand through her hair as she continued. “I realize I may have been too harsh on you. I don’t expect you to rush to my defense and join me every time. That being said, I do expect you to understand why I speak up for the things I believe in, rather than chastise me after the fact.”

“You’re right.”

“No, Tom, I said-,” she stopped herself, replaying his words in her head before looking at him. “What?”

“I said you’re right. I should have done more,” he admitted, moving from his place and sitting beside her as he spoke once more. “I may not fully agree with you, but I could have at least warned you ahead of time about how the dinner would likely play out.”

“To be fair, you weren’t exactly speaking to me beforehand,” she said under her breath. 

“To be fair, you were rather busy with Avery,” he noted. 

She began to protest, but stopped herself and sighed. “I told you. Orion and I are merely friends.” A short moment later, she added, “Trust me when I tell you that you’ll never have to worry about him.”

“Admittedly, your word has proven to not carry much weight,” he noted, narrowing his eyes on her. 

“If I hadn’t gone into your memories, would I know that you are a half-blood?” she asked suddenly. She watched as Tom averted his gaze away from hers, opting to greet her with silence. She nodded. “Exactly. We both have secrets, Tom. And that’s just going to have to be okay for now.”

Tom wanted to argue, though deep down, he knew that she was right. As much as he wanted her to open up to him fully, he knew that they were both hiding skeletons in their closets. He didn’t want to think about all the secrets he had kept from her-- and he knew that if she were to find out about a fraction of the things he had done, she wouldn’t be sitting beside him now. 

So, for the time being, he sighed and nodded. “Alright.”

She seemed rather relieved as his lack of protest and a faint smile found its way onto her lips. “Alright,” she repeated, looking at him. 

He noted the slight amusement on her lips and cocked his eyebrow. “What is it?”

With a laugh, she shrugged. “I don’t know. I just…” She paused before blurting out. “Has it always been this easy to work out our fights?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I suppose so,” he said, pulling her toward him by her waist and falling back onto the bed with her. “But,” he muttered, placing a soft kiss on her neck. “I think I prefer when you yell.”

  
  


\--------

The next morning, Avalon was in far better spirits. She slept peacefully with Tom beside her, finally devoid of nightmares as she fell asleep to the sound of his steady heartbeat. 

When she woke up, he had already left, though she thought it was best that way. If they were to keep their situation a secret from the others, it was smart to not exit each other’s rooms during times when everyone else was awake and may spot them.

She went downstairs rather reluctantly, worried she would run into the boys’ parents, but the house seemed near empty. It appeared as though they had already left for their holiday, leaving her and the others in the solace of a quiet house. So, she made her way to the kitchens to grab a quick breakfast. 

It was rather easy to find the kitchens-- the smell of freshly baked goods drew her right to the tall mahogany door. Slowly, she pushed open the entrance and walked inside, revealing a massive space filled to the brim with platters and platters of food, all being prepared by a slew of house-elves. 

The moment they heard her approaching, all the elves cowered away from the door, scrambling to get out of her way as she cautiously walked in. 

“Good morning,” Avalon said with a soft smile, lifting her hand to wave at the elves. As soon as she did, though, they all flinched, their eyes wide as they stared at her hand in cowering fear. She quickly put her hand back down, suddenly noticing the litter of bruises strewn across several of their bodies. “I’m not going to hurt you,” she said, biting down on her bottom lip as she watched them. 

“Wh-what can we do for you, Miss?” one of them asked, stumbling forward with his head bowed down so low that she was afraid he would stumble face-first onto the wooden floors. 

“It’s alright, I can find something,” she assured them, quickly grabbing a biscuit off the closest platter to her. “This is more than enough. Thank you.”

She noticed the elf raised his head a bit when she thanked him, but the sound of the door opening behind her caught her off guard. She turned her head and saw Tom enter, already dressed in a navy sweater and dark slacks. 

He glanced at the elves for a moment, nodding his head at them and saying a polite, “Good morning,” to them before turning his attention to Avalon. “We’re going to be heading into town soon.”

“So early?” she grumbled. “I just woke up.”

He reached out and took a pastry off a nearby tray, nodding. “Perhaps if you woke up at a reasonable hour, you would be ready by now,” he said, a slight smile on his face as he pressed a kiss to her frowning lips and walked back out the door. 

She sighed, thanking the house-elves one last time before following Tom out. “It’s not like you let me go to bed at a reasonable hour,” she said, walking by him with a roll of her eyes. 

She felt him latch his fingers around her wrist, grabbing her and pulling her beneath him, pressing her back lightly to the wall. He leaned in, his lips grazing against her ear when he whispered, “I didn’t hear you complaining, though.”

She could feel his lips twist into a grin before he pulled away, letting go of her as he took a step back and motioned toward the hallway. All she could do was flash him a look of feigned disdain as she scrambled to get to her room once more, a soft smile stretching across her lips the moment she turned her back to him. 

It didn’t take her more than a few minutes to get ready. Her fingers scrambled to shove all the things she needed into her purse. She then pulled on a thick black dress with wool tights underneath before grabbing her coat and wand and speeding back toward the foyer, led by the sound of voices gathering. 

She spotted Lestrange and Rosier first, the two of them standing beside Axel and Rosalie. Orion and Tom were speaking together a little further to the side as she came down the stairs. 

“Sorry if I kept you all waiting,” she said when she caught Axel and Rosalie’s eyes. 

“Not long at all,” Rosalie smiled. “Is everyone ready?”

Avalon couldn’t shake the feeling of Xavier’s eyes drilling holes into her as they all nodded. Evidently, Tom also noticed the wealthy heir’s line of sight and strode over to Avalon, standing beside her sternly as Avery followed him closely behind. Xavier returned his focus to Adonis shortly after, his eyes straying away from Avalon once more.

“All ready,” Orion said, walking toward Avalon and slinging an arm around her shoulder. “Good morning.”

She smiled at him and put her hand atop his, giving it a little squeeze. “Morning,” she said cheerfully. Though when she turned her head to the side, she saw Tom tense as he watched Orion rest his head atop Avalon’s head. She subtly brushed her hand against Tom’s, her touch lingering against his. Her mind eased a bit when she felt his thumb rub a light circle against her palm before he pulled his touch hand back to his side, even though she saw him holding back a smile from then on. 

“Let’s go, then,” Axel said, his fingers laced with his girlfriend’s as he led everyone to the door, pushing it open and walking out. They all followed after the couple, walking to the edge of the grounds with them and outside the gates, where the anti-Apparition wards ended.

“We’ll see you all there!” Rosalie squealed, waving to the group before the two of them apparated away. 

“Where exactly are we going?” Avalon asked Orion as Adonis and Xavier followed shortly after Axel and Rosalie. 

“Tom will show you,” he said, shoving her back toward the dark-haired boy a moment before he waved and apparated off, leaving the two of them behind as he disappeared into thin air. 

They stood there for a moment in silence before Tom shrugged. “I could easily leave without you.”

“You’re such a twat,” she grumbled, taking a hold of his hand and shooting him an amused glare as he grinned and apparated the two of them to the village with a loud  _ crack _ . 

The streets were bustling with dozens of people, shops still lit with the remnants of their Christmas lights. Cobblestone pathways led to the entrances, store owners standing at the doors ushering in potential customers with bright smiles and promises of a warm shop. 

The rest of the group was still huddled together, their light outerwear a stark contrast from the snowy surroundings. With the help of warming spells, it was rather easy to tell who was a wizard and who wasn’t. 

“This is a muggle town, is it not?” Avalon asked, glancing around at the storefronts and their oddly mundane names. 

“Patience,” Orion said, his eyes lingering down to Avalon and Tom’s still intertwined fingers with a grin. The two of them quickly noticed and let go of each other’s touch, but the smiling blond couldn't wipe the look of satisfaction off his lips. “There’s an alleyway not too far from here that is charmed so muggles won’t be able to see it.”

Lestrange and Rosier were staring at the muggles around them with scowls written across their faces as they made sure to shy away from any passing person, as if a single touch would tarnish their clothes. “Can we move it along? Their stupidity is contagious,” Xavier said in disgust.

“And it appears you’ve already caught it,” Orion grumbled. 

“Let’s go,” Rosalie said excitedly, dragging Axel forward as the others followed closely behind. 

They walked for a few minutes, getting a fair share of curious stares from the muggles who wondered how anyone could bear to walk in the cold wearing so little clothing. The alleyway that they were going to came into sight a few moments after. It was a busy corner with shops lining the entire area, wizards and witches laughing and smiling as they strode in and out of the stores with their friends by their side. The muggles walked right past the quaint street, never glancing twice in its direction as they attended to their own matters, completely oblivious to the wizarding world hidden right before them in plain sight. 

“Reckon we should go to the potions shop and stock up for tomorrow,” Adonis said, motioning toward a shop a few stores down. 

“Demitri will be feral if we don’t get him the elixirs he asked for,” Axel chuckled, nodding as the group began making its way toward the quaint store. He opened the door, motioning for Rosalie to walk in before the others followed suit. 

The store itself was small, yet warm, and stuffed with shelves of bottles, vials, and cauldrons, all of the colors of the rainbow lining the potion-filled walls. 

“G’mornin,” said the old owner, hobbling toward them with his walking stick. “Mr. Nott, nice to see you again.”

“Nice to see you, as well, Mr. Blackburn,” Axel smiled. 

“What can I interest you in today?” asked the man.

“We’re looking for...” Axel said, fishing around in his coat pocket until he pulled out a list. “... these.”

The owner took the list from his hands and began scanning over the items. Orion chuckled. “Demitri gave you a bloody list?”

“He was rather specific with his requests,” Axel replied, shrugging. 

“I can see it’s going to be…” the shop owner handed Axel back the list before finishing his thought, “... quite some party.”

“Do you have the potions?” asked Xavier, rather impatiently. 

The old man glanced around the rest of the shop, noting that nobody else was inside before he nodded and motioned for the group to follow him to the back. He drew his wand and tapped a green bottle on one of the shelves before stepping back and watching as the wall opened up, revealing a hidden section of the shop. 

Everyone walked in without hesitation, clearly having been there before, but Avalon stepped in cautiously, staring at all the dark potions stored away in locked boxes. Half of the potions that were there, she didn’t even recognize-- the others she knew were definitely not legal to purchase. 

The owner began unlocking several of the boxes, pulling out countless vials of colorful potions and setting them on the counter before Axel and Rosalie. In the meantime, Avalon began walking around the cramped area, looking at the mass of elixirs before them. 

She noticed Tom and Orion examining a shelf labeled ‘fortune’ filled with variants of liquid luck. It made her a bit happy to see the two of them interacting more. She thought that someone like Orion could be a good influence on Tom-- he had been surrounded by the likes of Lestrange and Rosier for far too long. Perhaps a true friendship was what he desperately needed. 

Rosier strode past her, making a bee-line toward a display counter stocked with dozens of dark, bubbling concoctions. She read the label, noting his interest in the poisons before him. 

Aside from Tom, Adonis seemed to be the best Potions student at Hogwarts. She’d noticed his keen interest in the subject rather early on, though it wasn’t until recently that she had truly discovered how talented he was at brewing. He was a rather reserved person-- even after all this time, she knew very little about him other than the fact that he was Lestrange’s closest friend. 

“Would that be all?” asked the shop owner, handing over a large bag to Axel. 

Nott nodded, giving the man a pouch of gold as he grinned. “That’s all. As usual, thank you.”

“Pleasure doin’ business with you, sir,” replied the owner, nodding at them as they began making their way back out of the shop. 

Not even a moment had passed after they left before Xavier announced, “If you need us, we’ll be at the pub,” striding off in the opposite direction, Adonis following closely behind him as the pair left the rest of the group behind. 

“Can we go to the jewelry store?” Rosalie asked, tugging on Axel’s hand. 

“We were just there four days ago,” he chuckled, grinning down at his girlfriend’s pouty face. 

“Yes, but I have changed my mind about what I’m wearing tomorrow for New Year’s, so I need a new bracelet to go with the dress,” she frowned. “I absolutely must. Come on,” she said, dragging him toward the store. 

Avalon, Orion, and Tom followed after them, laughing at the exasperated Axel as he was shoved into the jeweler’s store for what appeared to be the millionth time. 

“Ah, Mr. Nott, Miss Greengrass,” greeted the middle-aged woman at the counter as soon as they walked in. “So nice to see you both back so soon.”

“It appears we can’t stay away,” Axel laughed, pressing a kiss to the top of Rosalie’s head. “These are our friends, Mr. Avery, Mr. Riddle, and Miss Hendrix.”

“Pleased to meet you all, darlings,” said the woman, beaming at them. “What can I help you with today?”

“I’m looking for a bracelet that will go well with a rose-gold dress. With diamonds, of course,” Rosalie noted. 

“I just got a new shipment this morning,” the woman said, leading them to a display filled with glimmering bracelets, necklaces, and rings. She flicked her wand, unlocking the case. “Try on anything you’d like, dear. Just let me know which you’d like.”

“Excuse me,” Avalon said, motioning for the woman to join her. “Do you happen to buy jewelry as well as sell it?”

“That depends what you’re selling,” the woman replied. 

“I have something I’d like to get off my hands,” she said, reaching into her purse and pulling out the necklace Xavier had given her before their first Slug Club meeting. 

“Merlin, Ava,” Orion chuckled, shaking his head. 

“Is that the necklace Lestrange gave you?” Tom asked, trying to hide his amusement. 

“I have no need for it anymore,” she shrugged. “And I hardly think he misses it.”

As soon as the woman’s eyes landed on the diamond-encrusted piece, her eyes went wide, though she tried to contain her excitement as she kept a stoic face. 

“I suppose I could take that off your hands,” she said. “How much would you like for it?”

“How much are you willing to give?” The woman bent down and pulled out a pouch of gold from underneath the counter, placing it before Avalon, who just raised her eyebrow. “With all due respect, I know this piece is worth far more than that.”

The woman sighed and pulled out another, much larger, pouch, adding it to the pile atop the counter. Still, Avalon shot her another knowing stare. Reluctantly, the owner pulled out one final bag, larger than both the other two, and dropped it on the counter. The sound of the coins jingling within the bags made Avalon grin and nod. “Pleasure doing business with you,” she said, handing the woman the necklace as she took out her wand, cast a charm on her small purse, and was able to then shove in all three bags. 

While Rosalie was still busy looking at the bracelets, Axel walked over, stopping by Tom. He whispered, “Mate, can you do me a favor and take Rosie outside? I want to buy something but she can’t be here when I do.”

“Why can’t Avalon?” Tom asked, slightly irritated. 

“I want her and Orion’s opinions,” he replied.

“Hear that? He doesn’t care about your opinion,” Avalon said slyly, motioning toward the door. “Now shoo.”

Tom rolled his eyes, shaking his head as Axel called out to his girlfriend. “Hey, Rosie. Would you go shop with Tom for a bit?”

“Excuse me?” she frowned, staring at Tom in disbelief. “Why?”

“Your parents collect artifacts, correct?” Tom asked. “I’m looking for something and wanted to know if perhaps you’d have their insight while I search the shops.”

“Well, I’m sure it can wait until after I have bought-”

“I’ll buy the bracelets,” Nott said, walking back toward her and taking her hand in his. He looked into her eyes as he pressed a kiss to the back of her hand and said, “Will you please go shop with Tom, love?”

She narrowed her eyes at her boyfriend, pulling her hand away and crossing her arms as she sent one last death glare at him before then staring at Tom, letting out an agitated huff before she muttered, “Fine. Let’s make it quick, Riddle.” She stomped toward the exit, pausing for a moment beside Avalon to whisper, “I like princess cut diamonds,” and then walked out the door, not bothering to even glance over her shoulder to see if Tom was following behind her. 

Tom let out a sigh before slowly making his way after her, sending one last frown Nott’s way before leaving after Rosalie. 

When the door closed behind the two of them, Axel turned his attention back to the store owner and said, “Do you still have the one she pointed out last time?”

“Of course,” the woman said with a smile, bending down and pulling out a small box before placing it before him. 

“Will you two come look at this?” Axel asked, motioning for them to join him. Avalon and Orion strode over, watching as he opened the box and revealed a gorgeous gold ring with a large, glimmering diamond right in the center of it. “Rosie’s been dropping hints that she likes this one for months now.”

“Are you finally going to pop the question?” Orion asked.

“Yeah,” Axel said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I reckon I’ll hold off until her birthday in February, but I think she’s growing antsy waiting.”

“That’s so exciting,” Avalon smiled. “I think she’ll love it.”

“You think?” he asked nervously. “I know she likes this one, but I don’t know… I always feel like she deserves better and-”

“No, she’ll love it,” Avalon assured him. “It’s gorgeous. And she loves you. You could propose with a rock and she’d still say yes.”

Orion chuckled, but Avalon noticed a small hint of sadness behind his eyes. “I don’t know about a rock, but she does love you.” 

Axel smiled, feeling a little less nervous as he nodded and said, “Okay, I’ll take this one, then. And also the bracelet she was looking at earlier.”

“Of course. Very fine choices, indeed,” the woman said, starting to box everything up. 

Orion and Avalon walked to the back of the store, looking at the other things that the shop had to offer while Axel waited for his purchase. Orion’s face was a little too downcast for Avalon to not notice, so she nudged him lightly and whispered, “What’s wrong?”

He sighed, shrugging as he forced a smile, but his happiness didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Nothing, I’m alright.”

“Orion,” she said, gently putting her hand on his arm. “I know you better than that.”

He bit his bottom lip before saying, just quiet enough so only she would hear, “He’s my best friend-- I’m thrilled for him. And I love Rosalie, I do. But, sometimes I am just… a bit envious of what they are able to have. I’d do anything to give Clara an engagement ring, but all I can do for now is a bloody promise ring,” he grumbled, shaking his head. 

“One day, you two will be able to have everything you deserve and more,” she assured him. “I know it.”

“Not as long as my bloody family has anything to do with it,” he sighed. “I’m sorry, by the way. For how they acted at dinner.”

“You stood up against them,” she shrugged. “That’s all that really matters to me.”

“Still, the way they speak is unacceptable,” he said, resentfully. “I had been hopeful that after the attack on Hogsmeade, they might have thought differently. But, I suppose I was being naive. Clearly, they are still just as delusional as before.” He rolled his eyes, taking in a deep breath before changing the subject. “Do you need anything? Of course, I’d offer to pay, but it appears as though your wealth may exceed all of ours after your recent transaction,” he joked, poking her purse and listening to the sound of jingling coins from within. 

She laughed, pushing him away lightly. “Actually, I do need to get something small for Tom’s birthday. I was thinking of getting him a ring.”

“Don’t tell me you’re proposing, too,” he grinned, earning a scoff from her.

“Shut it. I just figured since he likes to wear rings, I could get him one, too,” she said, peering into the display and zoning in on a thick silver band with a shallow onyx line engraved through the center. “Reckon that’s his style?”

“Boring and dark? Yeah, seems about right,” he chuckled. 

“I’m going to charm it so that I can embed it with some of my favorite memories with him,” she said. “Does that make it less boring to you?” He bit back his smile nodding. “What are you smiling about?”

“Nothing,” he said, though his grin said otherwise. “It’s just that… it’s an awfully thoughtful gift for someone you don’t like-”

“Merlin, you’re a nuisance,” she said, shutting him up as he filled the quiet with his laughter. “Excuse me!” she called out, ushering over the store owner. “I’ll take this one, please.”


	43. Chapter 43

The group returned to the estate several hours later. After a successful shopping trip, they were all ridden with exhaustion as they slumped into the living room. Axel was sitting on an armchair with Rosalie perched atop his lap. Xavier and Adonis sat in a corner, taking turns passing around a flask as the two of them engaged in quiet conversation. 

Tom and Orion sat on a couch with Avalon between them, the trio talking amidst themselves. It was rather serene in the house, most of them too tired to engage in any boisterous activity and instead opting for some relaxation by the warmth of the grand fireplace in the center of the living room. All was quiet, peaceful, and rather still…

Until the main entrance swung open. 

“Evening, ladies and gentlefucks!” Demitri hollered, striding in with a bottle of firewhiskey already raised to his lips. A massive group of people followed him in, congregating in the living room as Nott’s eyes widened. Avalon spotted a cluster of Slytherins, Kyra among one of the first to walk in, though the rest of the group wasn’t even remotely familiar to her.

“Mate, what the bloody hell is this?” Axel exclaimed, gently ushering Rosalie off his lap as he stood up and raced over to Mulciber, snatching the bottle out of his hands. “I said you could bring one girl!”

“It’s our last year,” Demitri frowned. “Might as well go out with a bang, right?”

“Easy for you to say, you wanker, it’s not your house!” Axel said, whacking his friend on the arm. “Who even are these people? I only recognize half of them!”

“Well, after bringing most of Slytherin house, I came to the humble realization that there still weren’t nearly enough people for a proper celebration, so I just told them they could each bring a plus one.” He patted Nott on the shoulder, grinning. “You’re welcome.”

Axel shrugged his hand off of him, his eyes wide in disbelief. “Merlin, you’re a plague to my life, you do know that right? Get rid of them!”

Demitri chuckled, shrugging. “My dearest Axel… did good old Genevieve and Elias not teach you that it is unbecoming of a host to be rude to his guests?” Axel groaned, burying his head in his hands before shaking his head and walking away. Demitri turned back to the group behind him and yelled, “Oi! Go claim a room before you get kicked out by Nott!”

“If any of you go into my parents’ bedroom I will personally escort you out!” Axel shouted, though his words were drowned out by the excited chatter of their peers. 

“Now this is what I’m talking about,” Xavier said, standing up and striding over to Demitri, slinging his arm over his friend’s shoulder. “Nice work, mate.” His eyes landed on Kyra, who had made her way over to an excited Rosalie, and he winked at the girl, a devilish smirk once again finding its way onto his lips. 

“I thought this was supposed to be a small thing,” Avalon muttered to Tom and Orion. 

Through clenched teeth, Tom said, “It usually is.”

“Did you expect any different from Mulciber?” Orion chuckled. 

“Not particularly,” she said before shrugging. “Well, when in Rome…” she lifted her hand and summoned the firewhiskey out of Demitri’s hand, hearing him let out a confused huff as it flew away from him and into her own grasp. With a light laugh, she lifted the bottle to her lips and took a swig, winking at Tom as she felt the familiar burn of the firewhiskey go down her throat. 

From across the room, she heard Demitri yell, “I knew I liked her!”

\---------

The next two hours passed by in a blur. 

The entire house was filled with laughing and dancing and drinking-- the only person who appeared to not be having a good time was Axel, who was busy scrambling around the house making sure nobody was irreparably damaging his family’s belongings. 

“Get off the table, it’s vintage!” he yelled, yanking two girls off of it before his eyes landed on Xavier, who was pouring firewhiskey into a girl’s mouth, half the contents spilling onto the carpet. “I swear on Merlin’s grave-”

Meanwhile, Avalon laughed as she and Orion danced together in the center of the room. She had gone easy on the drinking, though still felt giddy enough to be incapable of stopping the giggles from escaping her lips. Orion took her hand and spun her around, the two of them enjoying the night as they were surrounded by swarms of other drunk students and strangers. As he twirled her, though, her eyes caught a brief glimpse of Tom. 

He was standing in the corner of the room, surrounded by a group of gawking girls and jealous guys, all of them fawning for the future Head Boy’s attention, but his eyes were focused only on Avalon. 

She gently took a hold of Orion’s arm and gave it a little squeeze, zoning the drunk blond’s attention back onto her. “Mind if I go talk to Tom for a moment?”

“Oh no, have I upset him by stealing his girlfriend?” he gasped, laughing when she whacked him across the chest. 

“Next time, I’ll hex you,” she warned, earning a wide grin from her beaming friend as she walked off toward Tom. Before she even reached him, he excused himself from the rest of the group and met her halfway. Though, instead of greeting her, he grabbed her by the wrist and started dragging her to the side of the room, distanced from everyone else. “This isn’t the direction of either of our bedrooms,” she said jokingly. 

He didn’t say anything until they reached the far left side of the expansive room. When they were far enough from the rest of the group, he finally dropped her arm and took a step back before crossing his arms, giving her a stern look. 

She looked up at him, a blissfully ignorant grin stretched across her lips as she put her hands on her hips and lightly bounced up and down on her toes. “Why so glum?” 

“Having fun?” he asked, a look of slight irritation on his face.

“Yes, actually,” she smiled. “Orion and I were having a grand time since it appeared my previous dance partner was uninterested,” she said, referring to their dance at the Yule Ball. “And I’ve told you a million times that Orion and I are only friends.”

“Does he know that?” he asked, struggling to keep the anger out of his voice. 

She couldn’t help but laugh to herself as she thought about how Tom had absolutely no idea that one of his inner circle friends had an entire secret girlfriend that he didn’t know about. “You do realize Orion is the one that shoves us together every chance he gets, right? Surely, you’ve picked up on that, Mr. Head Boy?” she paused for a moment before adding, “I mean, it’s not like you were going to dance with me, were you?”

“I--”

“The answer is no you wouldn’t,” she said, cutting him off. “So my options were Xavier and Adonis, who want me dead… Mulciber,” she said, her eyes landing on Demitri across the room, his tongue shoved down the back of some girl’s throat, “who appears to be preoccupied… That guy,” she said pointing to a random Slytherin who had his tie wrapped around his sweaty forehead, shuddering before adding, “who seems like a real charmer… and Orion. Tell me, Tom, who would you rather I dance with?”

“How much have you had to drink?” he asked, shaking his head. 

“The better question is, why haven’t you had anything to drink?” she retorted, her focus zoning in on the glass of spiked butterbeer in his hands. “Is that butterbeer?” she asked, laughing. “What are we, Tom? Twelve?”

“We need to discuss,” his words were cut off when she tried to snatch his drink away, but he just raised it out of her reach and laughed, “your drinking problem tomorrow.”

“It’s not a problem,” she shrugged, winking playfully when she said, “It’s a solution!”

“It’s not a solution,” he said, amusement on his lips as he shook his head. “It’s a hazard.”

She rolled her eyes. “You know, just for that, I think it’s time for another drink.” She reached out her hand, once again watching as she summoned a bottle out from Demitri’s grasp and it shot across the room and into her reach. 

Even over all the music, she heard Mulciber groan out, “Quit it, Hendrix!”

She grinned and pressed the bottle to her lips. “I’m going to finish this all,” she said to him, raising the nearly halfway filled bottle. 

“Ambitious, are we?” 

“Well, if you’re not going to drink, I’ll have to carry the weight for both of us,” she warned him, shrugging. 

“Avalon-”

“All of it,” she said, once again putting the bottle to her lips as she stared at him. 

“You’re a pain,” he replied, grabbing the alcohol out of her hands and rolling his eyes as he begrudgingly raised the bottle to his own lips, drinking while keeping his gaze focused on her. But, despite his annoyed demeanor, she noticed the way his lips were slightly turned up into a subtle smirk.

“So you’ve said,” she chuckled, watching as he drained the contents of the bottle in one long swig, never once breaking eye contact with her as he lowered the empty glass onto the side table, raising an eyebrow at her. She grinned and waved as she began walking back toward the rest of the crowd. “Good start! Now find me when it hits you!”

She made her way back to Orion, and Tom back to the group he had left earlier. Though, as she and Orion danced for another half hour, she was glaringly aware of Tom’s dark eyes glued to her the entire time. Every once in a while, she would make sure to look his way and send him a grin, so he’d know Orion wasn’t a threat, but, regardless, she saw his eyes darkening more and more as time went on. 

In the fleeting moments when she felt his gaze leave her, she would quickly sneak a sip from Orion’s flask, the two of them a bundle of happiness, but just as quickly as he’d look away, his focus would come right back to her and she’d go back to dancing. 

She didn’t exactly recall the direct sequence of events, but all she knew was that somehow, over time, she and Orion progressed to dancing on one of the tabletops, despite Axel’s protests. 

Eventually, she saw Tom leave the group surrounding him, once again making his way toward her and Orion. He stood before them, the two of them laughing as he gave her a stern look, tapping his foot impatiently. “Are you two nearly done?”

“Not quite,” she said, spinning underneath Orion’s outstretched arm as the two of them tried to hold back their joy. 

“Get off the table,” Tom instructed. 

“Get  _ on _ the table,” she shot back, grinning. 

“Avalon-”

“Are we all finally on a first-name basis now?” Orion asked. “Tom,” he said, mirroring the same wide smirk on Avalon’s face. “Get on the table, mate.” Tom shot a glare at Orion, who then turned to Avalon and said, “You know, on second thought… maybe we should get off the table.” At that moment, his eyes also landed on Nott, who was rushing to come over and yell at the two of them, so he laughed and jumped off, running over to his friend and throwing his arms around the frowning Seeker. 

“Boo,” she said, rolling her eyes as she hopped off the table and onto the floor. She stumbled a bit as she lost her footing, but Tom quickly reached out and steadied her, his hands grasped firmly on her shoulders as he watched her with a faint hint of amusement on his lips. “Don’t give me that look,” she chuckled.

“What look?” he said, smirking. 

“That look! As if I’m the only one who is drunk,” she pouted for a moment, but it was only a moment before she was incapable of holding back her own laughter once more. “First of all, you severely underestimate my alcohol tolerance. I’m not even that drunk-- I’m a seasoned veteran.”

“Of course you are.”

“Second of all, I’m not the only one who is a bit tipsy.”

“What are you saying this time?” 

“I’m saying I see you,” she said, poking his cheeks. “I see you with your… rosy, blushy, flushy cheeks.”

“My what?” he asked incredulously, swatting her hand away. 

“Your cheeks are red, Tommy,” she chuckled, noting the way he raised his eyebrow at the nickname. “You’re drunk, too. Firewhiskey did you good, huh?”

He rolled his eyes, but she knew he wasn’t nearly as annoyed as he was acting. The way the corners of his lips were twisted into a slight grin, she could see his amusement from a mile away. It was rather bothersome, really, how even when he was tipsy, he somehow managed to look even better than before.

His cheeks had a slight flush of pink strewn across them, a stark contrast from his porcelain skin. He had evidently been running his fingers through his hair more than usual, because his perfect waves had been tousled, a single curl falling before his eyes as he looked down at her with a faint glimmer in his dark eyes. 

His eyes lingered on her lips and she smiled, biting down on her bottom lip before walking off, away from the crowd. She looked over her shoulder and caught a glimpse of him following her, so she picked up her pace and ran into a nearby hallway, leaning against a door frame as she waited for him to join her. The moment he did, she glanced around to make sure they were alone and wrapped her fingers around his wrist, pulling him toward her. As he towered above her, she smiled and said, “You know, you’re quite hot when you’re jealous.”

“Who said I was jealous?” he questioned, moving a strand of her hair behind her ear as he kept his gaze focused on her grinning lips. 

Her fingers tangled with the fabric of his jumper as she bunched it up and pulled him closer to her. He leaned down just enough so that she could press a light kiss to the corner of his jaw, muttering into his skin, “Let’s just say it was fairly obvious.”

“Was it?” he asked, snaking his hand around the back of her neck as he moved her lips to his and kissed her. 

She felt his spare arm wrap around her waist, pulling her up against his body as she tangled a hand into his hair. But, the sound of approaching voices quickly caused them to separate. 

Before they could catch a glimpse of the people walking into the hallway, Tom opened the door that Avalon was leaning against, pushing the both of them into the room and shutting the entrance behind them.

The sight that greeted them was a grand library, ceilings towering with brightly painted murals strewn across them. Gold accents adorned the endless oak shelves, thousands of colorful books neatly arranged throughout the room. Through the windows, starlight twinkled in, but dozens of crystal-coated candelabras lit up the room with a warm glow. 

Tom looked at Avalon, her hazel eyes filled with awe as she looked around the library. The candlelight basked her in a radiance that he thought could make even the burning sun envious. Her flushed cheeks were beaming with pure elation as she spun around, trying to take in the sight before her. 

He wasn’t sure if it was the warmth of the firewhiskey coursing through his veins, but he knew only two things: she looked beautiful and he wanted her. 

Her curious eyes returned to his, trying to decipher the look on his face as he watched her. But, before she could even begin to process it, he pushed her against the nearest bookshelf, his lips finding their way onto hers as he kissed her passionately. 

She smiled into his mouth, though he only used that as an opportunity to take her bottom lip between his teeth, grinning to himself when he heard her let out a slight gasp. He dragged his lips slowly along the side of her jaw, then down her neck, leaving a trail of warm kisses along her skin as he made his way to her collarbone. 

“Are you sure you weren’t jealous earlier?” she said, attempting to appear unbothered by the feeling of his lips on her. 

“Absolutely not,” he said, his right hand snaking up below her dress, lightly tracing her skin as he made his way up to her thighs. 

“Sure seemed like it,” she said a moment before his lips caught onto hers once more. 

“Why would I be jealous...” he muttered into her lips as his fingers moved to the hem of her lace underwear. He grinned when he felt the warmth of her panting breath against his lips as he pushed her underwear to the side and ran a finger along her, feeling how wet she already was for him. Always for him. “... when I’m the only one who can make you feel this way?”

“I--”

He easily slid two long fingers into her, kissing her to silence the moan that fell from her parted lips. Between kisses he mumbled out, “Why…” kiss, “...would I be jealous…” another kiss, “... when I’m the only one…” another, “... who makes you act this way?” He curled his fingers inside her, another moan ripping through her throat as he grinned and nipped at her neck. “I’d try to stay quiet if I were you. Wouldn’t want anyone to hear how much of a slut you are for me, would we?” 

She bit down on her lip, her eyes wide as he kept moving his fingers in and out of her, watching as she struggled to keep her composure. Her hands tried to reach out and grasp her wand from her boot, but he grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head with his free hand, shaking his head. “No silencing charms this time, dove.”

She struggled against his grasp for a moment before he moved his thumb to her clit, rubbing circles around her and smiling to himself as the sound of her moans filled the room once more. “Tom,” she panted out. “Someone could walk in.”

“Then you better try to stay silent,” he said, slowly bending down and getting on his knees before her. He ran his hands deftly along her skin, placing torturous kisses from her ankles, up her legs, to her thighs… she shuddered when she felt his breath against her core and he smirked before he hiked her dress up and slowly pulled her underwear down to her ankles. Without a moment of hesitation, he lifted one of her legs and placed it over his shoulder, staring up at her with a devilish grin as he watched her try her hardest to remain composed. “Will you stay silent?” he asked before swiping his tongue across her, smiling when he heard her let out another soft moan. “That’s what I thought.”

She had to do everything she could to not cry out when she felt him rub circles around her with the warmth of his mouth. The sight of him knelt down before her, eyes peering up at her from beneath his lashes as he expertly licked and sucked on her clit… she could watch him like that forever. He knew what he was doing-- it was like clockwork. He knew exactly what to do to make her moan, he knew exactly what to do to make her whimper, he knew exactly what to do to make her tremble. 

He knew how to make her feel good, and that’s exactly what he intended to do. 

Something about knowing he was the cause of her pleasure made his eyes burn with lust. He could feel her slowly moving her hips against his face, his tongue meeting her movements as he lightly grazed his teeth against her, earning a loud moan in response. 

His eyes would occasionally glance toward the door to make sure nobody would walk in, but truthfully, he didn’t much care. All he wanted was to keep his eyes on her, on the way she was crying out for him, on the way she reacted to his touch. 

She was doing an awful job at staying quiet, but he didn’t bother to try and stop her. The sounds of her moans were all he needed to hear to know that he was making her feel as good as he wanted. The louder she was, the bigger his ego grew. 

His tongue continued working on her clit while he slid his fingers back into her, pushing them deep within her as she had to cover her own mouth to stop the cry that threatened to slip out. Her sudden silence, as forced as it was, annoyed him, so he curled his fingers, smirking when he heard a muffled moan slip out from beneath her own hand. 

He was painfully aware of the growing bulge in his own pants, but he didn’t focus on it right now. All he cared about was her and watching her unravel.

Her free hand shot out and tangled into his hair. In her desperation, she yanked at his locks so hard that it was his turn to moan. The vibrations of his pleasure against her core made her whimper in response, and the sound was enough of a reminder for him to focus on her once more, slipping in another finger as he pushed her closer and closer to euphoria. 

“Tom,” she cried out, her bottom lip trembling as she felt her legs about to give way. 

He hummed in response, the feeling sending a shiver down her spine as her hips involuntarily moved against his mouth. He could tell she was close-- it was obvious. Her movements were erratic, her breathing labored, and her cries loud. 

And he fucking loved it.

Fucking her was always euphoric-- but watching her come undone when he was in complete control of her pleasure… was something entirely different. He wanted to watch her lose herself beneath him. He wanted to remind her that only he could make her feel this way. He wanted her to know that in that moment, she was his and only his. 

She closed her eyes shut, biting down on her bottom lip, but he wanted her to watch him and only him while she finished. So, he used his free hand to dig his fingertips into her calf, locking his eyes with hers once more as she forced them open to look down at him. 

“Tom,” she whimpered, a mixture of pleasure and desperation in her hazy eyes. “I’m… s-so close.”

Keeping his eyes locked with hers, he sucked on her clit one more time, his fingers dipping in and out of her wetness when he heard her let out one last strained moan. She clasped her hand over her mouth again, biting down on her own palm to quiet herself, but it was to nearly no avail. 

The sound of her finish filled the entire library, and it was addictive to hear. 

He felt her body slouch against the shelf as she rode out her high, and he smirked as he ran his tongue along her one last time, licking off the remnants of her sweet arousal before he slid his fingers out, getting back onto his feet as he put his fingers before her mouth and watched as she breathlessly sucked them clean. 

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before pressing a kiss to her lips, though she was too worn out to even kiss back. His mouth barely grazed hers as he muttered into her skin, “Better than dancing, no?”

She didn’t have the strength to respond, instead just trying to stand back upright, but the moment her back left the bookshelf, her legs nearly gave out beneath her and he had to steady her in his grasp. It was impossible to deny how good it made him feel to see her crumble before him. 

Slowly, he bent down, making sure to keep her steady as he reached for her underwear and helped pull it up her legs before he moved her dress back down, covering her up before his arm wrapped back around her waist and he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. 

Her words were quiet, but they echoed through his ears when he heard her whisper against his mouth, “Your room.”

“Whatever for?” he smirked. 

She rolled her eyes, her gaze still tired, though there was a mischievous glint in her soft smile when she slid her hands down his body, resting on the hardened bulge in his pants when she said, “Your turn.”

\----------

Avalon rested her head atop Tom’s chest, her eyes closed as she listened to his heartbeat beneath her. She couldn’t help but bite back her happiness as he gently stroked her hair, the blankets covering their bodies as they lay together in their shared bliss. 

His finger grazed her cheek, gently moving her face so she would look up at him. When their eyes met, there was pure serenity in both of their gazes, neither one willing to break their stare. 

A few moments passed, but a soft smile found its way onto both of their lips before she turned her head once more and pressed a light kiss atop his heart, laying her head back on his chest after. 

She wanted to savor the moment. It was rare for there to be moments of such serenity between them. Not a care in the world as they laid in bed, their bodies tangled with each other, the feeling of his skin pressed against hers. The warmth of his body was a sanctuary to her-- it would be a lie to pretend as though she didn’t want to just stay in that bed with him forever and forget the world around them if only for a moment. 

He leaned his head forward just enough to press a kiss to the top of her head while one of his hands gently ran up and down her hips, drawing small figures atop her soft skin. Neither one of them could deny the electricity that ran between them every time they touched-- the sparks were there, they had always been there, and it was impossible to ignore. 

It felt as though every part of their souls wanted to be completed by the other. 

She glanced at the wall across from his bed, noting how they were moments away from midnight, before she closed her eyes once more, trying to lose herself in his embrace. 

He opened his mouth to say something, but the sound of footsteps cut off his thoughts. His room was at the end of the hall, so it was not uncommon to hear footsteps as the others made their way to their rooms, but these footsteps didn’t seem to stop…

And there were so many of them. 

“Maybe we should just wait until tomorrow!” Orion’s voice shouted, projecting as loudly as he could. “What if he’s asleep?”

“Sh,” whispered Rosalie. “You’ll ruin the surprise!”

The fleet of footsteps stopped outside the door.

“Fuck,” Avalon and Tom said at the same time. 

They quickly scrambled out of bed, each of them summoning their clothes into their grasps as they tried to get dressed. 

They heard the doorknob rattle as the group tried to pry it open, thankfully being stopped by the lock. 

“See, it’s locked. I really don’t think we should go in there!” Orion pleaded. 

“Step aside, boys,” said Mulciber’s voice. “ _ Alohomora _ .”

Tom quickly flicked his wand back toward the door, locking it once more as he pulled his underwear and pants hastily up his legs, a horrified look on Avalon’s face as she tried to step into her dress. 

“What the bloody hell,” said Mulciber from outside before he repeated, “ _ Alohomora _ .”

Tom pointed his wand toward a dresser, ready to shove it in front of the door, but in his moment of diverted focus, the door swung open. Before it fully opened, Avalon scrambled back into the bed, pulling the covers over herself as Tom rushed to stand in front of her, his shirt still in his hands as the group burst in. 

“Happy birthday!” cheered Rosalie, Axel, Demitri, and the others as they all walked in. Rosalie led the group, holding a green birthday cake, the smile on her face-- and the rest of their faces-- quickly fading when they took in the scene before them. 

Orion stood at the back of the group, his head buried in his hands as he shook his head in disbelief. 

“Oh, fuck,” said Axel, holding back a laugh. 

“Didn’t know you had started celebrating early, mate,” Demitri said, looking over at Avalon. “Good work, Hendrix!”

“But I thought-” Rosalie started, looking between Avalon and Tom. “Weren’t you-” she said, looking at Orion. “Avalon and-” she sighed, shaking her head. “I give up.”

Avalon pulled the covers further up her body, her face bright red as she tried to hide from the group. Tom looked at them, his eyes livid as he shouted, “Get out!”

Orion caught Avalon’s eyes for a moment, mouthing out an apologetic  _ ‘I’m sorry’  _ before he quickly averted his gaze again and started leading the pack away from the room. As he left, she caught sight of Xavier standing behind him. His green eyes were cold and empty as he stared at her, his gaze making her shift uncomfortably. Tom sent him a pointed glare, but Xavier just rolled his eyes and turned around, shaking his head as he made his way down the hall. 

“Sorry!” piped Rosalie as she and Axel began walking out. 

“Leave the cake!” Avalon called out, trying to make light out of the situation. 

Tom turned around and shot her a look of disbelief, but she just shrugged as Rosalie walked in, the cake in one hand, her other hand covering her eyes, and set the dessert on the table closest to the door before scurrying out again, closing the door behind her. 

As the door slammed shut, they were once again left in their silence-- unfortunately, less serene than before. A few moments passed of neither of them saying a word before she finally cleared her throat and he turned to look at her. 

“Well,” she said. “Happy birthday?”


	44. Chapter 44

“You have to thank them, you know,” Avalon said to Tom the next morning as they exited his bedroom and began making their way to get breakfast.

“For what? Barging in unannounced?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“For trying to be good friends. They made you a cake,” she pointed out.

“The cake you ate?” he said, his lips turned into an amused smirk as she frowned. 

“I wasn’t going to let it go to waste,” she shrugged as they strode down the stairs. They passed by several others on their way, though there were few familiar faces. It appeared as though Mulciber’s attempt to fill the estate with as many people as possible had resulted in quite a few strangers finding their way into the Nott residence. 

She was glad to see Tom in relatively good spirits-- after the group had burst into his room the night prior, he had been angry for quite some time after they left. It took a bit of gentle conversation and a delicate touch to get him to calm down, but she had just made sure to remind him that there had been no ill-intent on their friends’ parts. 

He hadn’t taken that very well, but she pulled him back into bed and spoke to him until he had lost his edge once more, and they fell asleep not too long after. 

As they made it toward the dining room, she heard the indistinct sound of chattering before they even entered. Though, the moment they walked in, the entire room went silent and turned to stare at them, conversations immediately dying down when their eyes landed on Avalon and Tom.

Axel and Demitri rose from their chairs, clapping enthusiastically. “Atta boy!” cheered Nott. The entire room began clapping shortly after-- aside from Xavier, Kyra, and a few girls that were glaring at Avalon. 

“Hendrix give you your birthday present yet, Riddle?” Demitri asked, a wide grin on his lips.

Orion, who was closest to the door, looked up at the confused Avalon and sighed. “Someone,” he said, pointing to Mulciber, “doesn’t know how to keep his massive mouth shut. I’m so sorry.”

Avalon snatched a roll off Orion’s plate, winding her arm back and aiming it straight at Mulciber’s head. But, before she could launch it at him, Tom grabbed a hold of her wrist, stopping her movements and gently prying the roll out of her hand and tossing it back onto Orion’s plate, who let out a dejected huff of defeat. 

Tom put a hand on her shoulder and leaned in to her ear, trying to hold back his laughter when he asked, “Do you still think I should thank them?”

“Sod off,” she grumbled, taking the seat next to Orion with a roll of her eyes. 

Tom was about to take the seat beside her when he saw Xavier stand up and catch his eye, briefly motioning for Tom to follow him out of the room as he made his way out. Tom sent him a confused look, but Lestrange just kept walking, leaving the dining room. 

Avalon appeared to already be busy yelling at Demitri from across the table, her attention already diverted away from Tom. So, reluctantly, he followed after Lestrange. 

But, as the two of them began to walk away, Avalon whipped her head around and watched Tom follow after the one person she despised the most. She narrowed her eyes on them, but before she could say anything, she felt a tap on her shoulder and turned around. 

“Can we talk?” Kyra said softly, standing behind Avalon. 

Avalon glanced at Orion for a moment, who shrugged, before she turned back to Kyra and slowly nodded, standing up and following after the girl as she led them out the dining room. They walked in silence as Kyra strode through the estate, clearly familiar with the layout, until they reached an empty sitting room far from the others. 

Kyra took a seat on an armchair, motioning for Avalon to take the seat across from her. It was hard to decipher the girl’s expressions. She was rather good at keeping a stoic face, though her eyes were much easier to read.

Avalon had expected to see anger in Kyra’s eyes. What worried her was that instead of fury, she was greeted by concern and nervousness. 

“You and Riddle,” Kyra said slowly.

“What about it?” Avalon asked cautiously. 

“Are you two together?”

Avalon paused for a moment. It wasn’t a simple question-- her and Tom were definitely something, but to say they were together was a stretch. “Not exactly.”

Kyra nodded, but there was a forlorn look on her face. “I don’t know if you knew, but he and I were involved with each other for quite some time.”

“I picked up on it,” Avalon replied. 

Kyra bit down on her lip, as if choosing her words was awfully difficult in that moment. Avalon had never seen the typically poised girl look so fidgety before, though even in her uncertainty, she still carried herself with an undeniable elegance. “I promise I am not here out of spite or jealousy. Rosalie just told me about the two of you and I felt as though I couldn’t stay quiet in good conscience.”

“What do you mean?”

The girl took in a deep sigh before she spoke again. “I know you and I aren’t particularly close, but I just want you to understand what you’re getting yourself into. And if you choose to still pursue things with him, that is okay, but I want you to know what he’s like.” 

“I know what he’s like,” Avalon said softly. “I appreciate the concern, but I know what I’m signing up for.”

“I’m sure you think you know him. I thought I did, too. But, you’ll find he’s a very convincing actor.” Kyra paused for a moment before speaking again. “I liked Riddle for years. I think most girls at Hogwarts find themselves attracted to him at one point or another. But, it was clear that he wasn’t interested. So, I began dating Renley…” She shook her head, biting down on her lip. “It was as if a switch flipped in Riddle the moment I was suddenly unavailable. I noticed he began to seek after me more, leaving small hints that he wanted to be with me, but never making anything explicitly clear. I tried to ignore his advances for quite some time-- I didn’t want to hurt Renley. But, when Tom sets his eyes on something, he always ends up getting what he wants.

“In hindsight, I know that it was wrong of me to be unfaithful to Ren. I would leave Riddle’s room feeling horrible every time-- empty, used. But it was as though every time I mustered up the courage to end things with Riddle, he would sense it and pull me back in. The whole time it felt as though I were dealing with two versions of him: the real him, who hurt me time and time again, and the kinder version of him that would lure me back every time he thought I would go back to Renley. It was impossible to leave…” she said, taking in a deep breath as a single tear fell down her cheek, which she quickly wiped away. “So, I broke up with Renley. And, as soon as I did that, it was like I was worthless to Riddle again. He ended things with me that same day… I suppose I was foolish to fall for his manipulation. He never wanted anything other than what happened behind closed doors.” 

Avalon stayed quiet. The words resonated through her mind as she thought back to her own relationship with Tom. To say Kyra’s story didn’t worry her would be a lie. The parallels were hard to deny: Tom had only truly begun to show interest in Avalon once she and Xavier had started dating, he was constantly going back and forth between two versions of himself, and he did make sure that she was drawn back every time he pushed her away. Though, she tried to remedy her doubts-- he had made so much progress that she didn’t want to abandon hope in him. But, still, it was tough to ignore the similarities. 

“Tom Riddle views people as toys that he can use until he is bored. Then, he throws them away,” Kyra said, a hint of sadness in her voice before she added, “I hope I’m wrong. I genuinely hope that you’ll be the one to change him for the better… I just couldn’t not say anything to you.”

“Thank you for telling me,” Avalon said, a soft smile on her lips. “I appreciate it, really.” Kyra nodded, standing up as she began to make her way back toward the dining room, but Avalon quickly stopped her. “If you don’t mind me asking… are you and Xavier together?”

“It’s complicated,” she said slowly. 

Avalon nodded, but spoke softly when she said, “In the same way you had to warn me about Tom, I have to warn you about Lestrange. He’s not used to hearing no… and he doesn’t take to it well when he isn’t given what he wants. He will try to take it by force, if he must. Please be careful around him-- he isn’t what he appears to be.”

She didn’t have to say anything else, the look on Kyra’s face showed that she understood what Avalon meant. “Thank you for telling me,” she said softly before turning her back and walking off.

Avalon stayed there in the quiet for a moment, thinking about what she had just learned. None of it was particularly surprising to her, though to hear it straight from Kyra’s mouth was still bothersome. She sighed, shaking her head as she buried her head in her hands and tried to clear her mind.

Meanwhile, Tom followed Xavier into his room and watched as the door shut behind them and Xavier quickly cast a silencing charm on the room as he began digging through his suitcase. “Why am I here?” Tom asked impatiently. 

Lestrange grabbed something, though Tom couldn’t quite see it until he held it out before him. 

“I found it for you,” said Xavier triumphantly. 

Tom felt himself take in a sharp breath as he stared at the locket Xavier was holding. He hastily took it from Xavier’s hands, staring at it in awe in his own grasp. 

To hold it felt surreal. To feel the gold in his palm, to touch the green gems with the pads of his fingers, to see the way it glistened in the light… 

He had dreamt of this moment for ages. 

“Where did you find it?” he demanded, his eyes glued to Salazar Slytherin’s locket. 

“I bought it from an old witch-- Hepzibah Smith. My parents did business with her before so I was able to buy it from her for,” he paused, rolling his eyes, “a rather hefty price. But, no matter.”

Tom glanced at Lestrange only to be met by two wild green eyes so desperate for recognition and reconciliation that it was nearing pathetic. He refused to give Lestrange what he wanted, though, and watched as the hope in the boy’s eyes began to wear away. 

Lestrange tapped his foot against the ground sporadically while his hands trembled by his side. It was impossible to ignore the way his cheeks had become hollowed, his eyes sunken with dark circles, and his movements erratic and fidgety. The boy could barely stand still for a moment before he would involuntarily jerk his hand, or tilt his neck, or pace back and forth. 

Though, despite the apparent lasting-effects of the Cruciatus Curse that Tom had used on him, Lestrange remained devoutly loyal. The fool had always been one of his most devoted followers. 

“She has the cup, too,” Xavier added. “Wouldn’t sell me that one, though. The old hag claimed she was a descendant of Helga Hufflepuff and refused to give it to me, no matter the price I offered. But, I know where she lives. We can pay her a little visit,” he said, a sinister smirk finding its way onto his lips before he chuckled. “Pry it from her cold fingers if we have to.”

Tom returned his attention to the locket in his fingers. He had sought after these objects for ages now. Objects that were worthy of holding a piece of him-- objects worthy of being a part of him. 

He couldn’t help but smile as he closed his fingers around the locket and shoved it into his pocket. 

“We can retrieve the cup tomorrow,” Xavier said. “You could even use her death for the ritual-”

“That won’t be necessary just yet,” Tom said, the words coming out so quickly that he didn’t even realize he had said them. 

“I’m sorry… what?” Xavier asked incredulously. “Did you just say no?”

“I said not yet,” Tom said, narrowing his eyes on the shocked heir. 

“But, why? You’ve wanted these for so long. Do you realize the pain it was to track them down for you?” he frowned, his green eyes wide with disbelief. 

“I did not ask you to do that,” Tom said, his voice stoic. 

“I just-”

“If you thought that fetching me a locket would put you back in good graces with me, you were mistaken,” he said. “I suggest you-”

“What is your bloody problem!?” Xavier roared, his eyes livid as he clenched his fists uncontrollably. Tom was not used to being cut off by the boys, let alone by Lestrange of all people. He was caught off guard by the boy’s uncharacteristic explosion of anger, but, still, he kept his face expressionless and sent Xavier a threatening glare, giving him one last chance to quit talking. But, Lestrange only continued. “We have waited for this opportunity for  _ years,  _ and I finally handed it to you on a goddamn silver platter, and suddenly you want to push it off? Why?”

Tom didn’t have an answer. He couldn’t quite explain why he wasn’t ready to go fetch the cup. All he knew was that if he went through with it and she found out, Avalon would never speak to him again. 

And he didn’t want to risk that. Not yet, at least. Not until he thought of a plan. 

“Is this because of her?!” shouted Xavier. When Tom didn’t reply, the boy shook his head angrily, his fervent eyes burning with fury. “Is that why you wanted me to stop pursuing her? So you could go fuck her yourself?”

Xavier just barely saw Tom’s eyes flash red. 

_ “Imperio,”  _ Tom hissed, pointing his wand at Xavier and watching as the anger in the boy’s eyes subsided to obedience. He struggled to keep his own breathing steady, his rage coursing through his veins like a drug overcoming his senses. Without wasting a moment, he conjured a sharp blade before holding it out and watching as Lestrange grasped it in his fingers. “If you won’t learn to hold your tongue...” he said calmly before flicking his wand back toward Xavier and watching as the wide-eyed boy lifted the knife to his own tongue, “...then cut it out yourself.”

Tom stared at the boy before him as Xavier began to press the blade down onto his own tongue, blood dripping out of his mouth and down his chin as his eyes watered from the burn. 

Slowly, he pressed it further and further, the blood pouring out faster as the wound grew deeper, but Tom just watched. He stared as the wooden floors beneath them were spattered with crimson drops. He stared as he heard Xavier choking on his own blood, guttural gasps and harrowing cries slipping from his lips. He stared as the blade dug deeper and deeper into the boy’s mutilated tongue, his face paling as the knife was coated in his own agony. 

And just moments before Tom felt as though the boy was about to finish the task, he broke his hold over him and watched as control returned to Xavier’s body and he dropped the blade, his hands darting to his self-inflicted wound as he tried to suppress the bleeding. 

Tom blankly stared as Lestrange fell to his knees, the boy looking sick to his stomach as he sat in a pool of his own blood and scrambled to grab his wand and attempt to heal the damage that had been done. 

There was nothing Tom wanted more than to kill Lestrange right then and there-- but he knew that he couldn’t. Not when so many people were in the house. So, he just loomed over the writhing boy and said, his voice cold as ice, “You are indebted to me. Don’t you dare forget that again.” He stepped around Lestrange’s quivering body and strode to the door. Just before he left, he glanced at the blood on the ground and said, “Clean that up,” before making his way out and shutting the door behind him.

He descended down the stairs angrily, trying to quell the irritation that had arisen within him. His list of reasons for keeping Lestrange alive seemed to be dwindling by the day, but the weight of Slytherin’s locket in his pocket reminded him why he had to keep the fool around. Against all odds, the imbecile was useful. And unrelentingly loyal. 

As he made his way back to the dining room, it occurred to him that it would be difficult for Lestrange to cast a healing spell with… only half a tongue. He rolled his eyes and made a bee-line for Rosier. The boy turned around and faced him, a look of confusion on his typically stoic face when Tom said, “I suggest you go check on Lestrange. He may need help.”

A look of dread passed over Rosier’s face before he swiftly exited the room, leaving Tom behind to search for Avalon. He spotted Avery, who had a small look of satisfaction on his lips as he had appeared to have overheard Tom and Adonis’ exchange, but Avalon was nowhere to be seen, so he walked over to the blond. “Where did she go?”

Orion shrugged. “Kyra pulled her aside and the two left a little bit after you and Xavier. Went that way,” he said, pointing toward the direction of the foyer.

Tom didn’t bother to waste another moment. He walked out, his eyes scanning the rooms for the familiar head of black hair. The thought of Patil grabbing her for a conversation made him more nervous than he cared to admit-- he didn’t know exactly what Kyra would want to discuss with Avalon, though it was rather safe to say he would be the subject… and he doubted it would be flattery. 

He found Avalon sitting alone not too much later. Her back was turned to him and she was sitting in an armchair in the middle of an empty sitting room, but it was undeniably her. “Why are you sitting alone?” he asked, his voice startling her a bit as she turned to see him.

“Just thinking,” she replied, her voice soft. 

“About?”

“Nothing of importance,” she said.

“Lying again?” he asked with a gentle smile, kneeling down before her chair and taking her hand into his own. “What is it, really?”

She gave his hand a slight squeeze. “It’s fine, honestly. I needed a minute to myself, but I’m good now,” she said, knowing he wasn’t fully satisfied with her answer. But, before he could complain, she gently reached out and put a hand on his cheek, watching as he leaned into her touch. He stayed that way for a moment before turning his head and pressing a kiss into her palm. His eyes were softened when they met hers once more, and she offered him a gentle smile before saying, “Everything is okay, don’t worry.” He nodded, both of them sitting there in the quiet for a moment before she spoke once more. Her voice was a little uncertain when she asked, “What did Xavier want?”

Tom hated that he could sense worry in her eyes-- as if she was still concerned that he would be scheming anything with that low-life. But, he took in a deep breath and said, “He merely wanted to get back on my good graces. Of course, that’s not a possibility, though.” 

“So I have nothing to worry about?” she asked. 

The locket in his pocket felt heavier than before. 

“Of course not,” he said, a smile on his face as he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles, though he couldn’t stop the nagging feeling of guilt in his heart as he watched her buy into his words and smile back. 

She seemed satisfied with his answer, so she stood up and he followed suit. There was a look of content on her face in wake of where worry had previously been, and he wanted to make sure it stayed that way for as long as he had anything to do with it. He wasn’t sure why seeing her upset made him feel an ache in his own chest, but he didn’t like it one bit. 

“Let’s get back to breakfast,” she offered, watching as he intertwined their fingers. 

“Ah, yes,” he said. “Back to a room filled with people who know we shagged last night.”

“Does that bother you?” she asked.

He shook his head, a slight laugh escaping his lips as he pulled her close and tilted her chin up with the tip of his finger, “No.”

\-------

Avalon was looking at herself in the mirror, fixing the edges of her blood-red lipstick, as she, Rosalie, and Kyra prepared for the night in Kyra’s room. She had been a little surprised to have been invited to get ready with the girls, but it appeared as though much of the tension between her and Kyra had faded after their earlier conversation. 

A long black slip dress fell along her body, slinking low enough on her chest to show off the sparkling diamond necklace that Rosalie had lent her. It hugged against her waist, inches above a leg slit that was held together with glimmering crystals, hiding beneath it the sheath where she had stored her wand. 

She let her long, dark hair fall down along her back, turning around to make sure that the scar on her back was still concealed. Thankfully, her dress just barely covered it up. While the other scars along her body were still on display, she hadn’t felt the need to cover those up in quite some time. Still, proudly displaying a  _ ‘TRAITOR’ _ scar when in a house surrounded by purebloods didn’t seem like the brightest idea, so that one remained covered. 

“You look gorgeous as ever,” Rosalie smiled as she walked up behind Avalon to use the mirror.

“You’ll have to take us shopping one day-- I adore your style,” said Kyra, a smile on her face. “I swear I’ve been to every shop in this hemisphere and I’ve never seen anything like the dresses you wear.”

Avalon chuckled, rubbing the back of her neck. “You’re both more than welcome to borrow anything you’d like.”

“Maybe if I showed up in a dress like that, Axel would finally get on his knee and propose already,” said Rosalie, rolling her eyes. Avalon noticed Kyra trying to bite back a smile much similar to her own, but neither one of them said anything. Rosalie looked at her own hair in the mirror one last time before smiling, satisfied with the overall look. 

“Anyone want another drink?” Kyra asked as she made her way to the second nearly finished bottle of champagne that they had been working on. 

“Always,” replied Avalon, walking over with her champagne flute and smiling as Kyra filled it up. 

The three of them chatted for another few minutes while they downed the last of the bottle. Rosalie was already incapable of holding back her stream of giggles-- the girl had the lowest alcohol tolerance Avalon had ever seen. Kyra was a little more outwardly giddy than usual and even Avalon was starting to feel a light buzz in her head. All in all, they were all having a great start to their night. 

But, as Avalon could hear the New Year’s Eve celebrations taking off downstairs, she knew that she had one last thing she had to do before she could join the party. She excused herself from Kyra’s room and said she’d see the girls later before scurrying back to her own room, grabbing what she wanted, and rushing over to Tom’s door. 

She couldn’t ignore the nervousness she felt as she took in a deep breath and knocked on his door. It took about ten seconds for him to open up, but as soon as he did, his lips tilted into a slight smile as he slowly raked his eyes up and down her. 

Without saying a word, he snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her into the room, shutting the door behind her while he pressed her back against the wooden frame. In the quiet of his room, he smiled and said, “What a shame such a beautiful dress will go to waste.”

She looked up at him quizzically. “Shame?”

His lips had already found a home on her neck, leaving a trail of kisses up her skin until he grazed her ear and whispered, “I don’t see it staying on for very long.”

She smiled before his lips met hers in a tantalizing kiss, but still managed to pull herself away before things got too heated. “I have something for you,” she said, earning a raised brow from him. Before he could question anything, she lifted her hand, holding up the small, neatly wrapped blue box. 

He looked a little surprised and began to say, “You didn’t have to-”

But, she cut him off. Shrugging, she said, “Happy birthday.” Almost reluctantly, he took the box from her fingers and slowly took off the wrapping paper, making sure to not rip it. She rolled her eyes and grumbled, “Any day now,” earning an annoyed glare from him a moment before he finished undoing the wrapping and revealed the black box beneath. 

When he opened it up and revealed the ring inside, he picked it up, examining the thin strip of silver liquid coursing through the center. “Are those…”

“Memories,” she nodded. “Put it on and then press it to your temple.”

He slid it onto the middle finger of his right hand before raising it to the side of his forehead and pressing it against his skin. 

Instantly, his vision swirled into a recollection of the memories she had placed into the ring. 

_ It started with visions of them together in the Room of Requirement. Her laughter, his smiling, him standing behind her zipping up her dress, their dueling, his hands on her waist for the first time, falling asleep by the fireplace… the dove. _

_ The memories shifted, swirling together and forming the night of the Yule Ball. He saw their first dance, their petty arguments, their talk on the Astronomy Tower, her incessant one-sided bickering all the way until they got back to his room… their first kiss.  _

_ Red dress falling to the floor, black tie discarded beside it… Bliss. For the first time with her-- pure bliss.  _

_ Sitting together before the Mirror of Erised. Holding each other. Finally giving in to whatever it is that they were… taking a chance. _

_ And then, a walk in the snow. Her excitedly bouncing up and down as she stepped into the fresh white blanket that had draped across the grounds. A snowball hitting him in the chest. A chessboard.  _

_ Christmas. Happiness-- both his and hers. Snow falling from the ceiling of the Room of Requirement, a decorated tree… joy. The smile on her face when he gave her the bracelet.  _

_ And then, everything faded away, showing nothing more than the two of them in bed. Her head atop his chest, both of their eyes closed as they rested together. Heartbeats. He couldn’t tell if it was his or hers that he was hearing-- they sounded the same.  _

He slowly moved the ring away from his temple, his vision coming back to the room where she was standing before him, a nervous look in her eyes as she awaited his reaction. 

But, he didn’t know how to react. A part of him was just in shock from the thought that had gone into the gift. He had received gifts before-- from Lestrange, Rosier, Nott, Mulciber, and even Avery. They had all given him things he desired, things he had requested, or things that they thought he may want. But, there had never been any thought in them-- they were merely necessities or lavish displays of wealth. 

This was different. 

This was real. This was emotional. This was vulnerability. 

This was her, and she was everything.

Her voice broke him out of his thoughts. “Do you… like it?” she asked, her voice uncharacteristically timid. 

He didn’t quite have words to express what he was feeling, so he pulled her in, wrapping his arms around her before pressing a soft kiss to her lips. It wasn’t like their usual kisses-- it wasn’t hungry, or rough, or needy… it was gentle. Filled with a thousand words he wanted to say to her but hoped she could feel through his touch. 

He pulled away, his lips instead finding a home atop her forehead as he held her close in his arms. “Thank you,” he said quietly, but he felt her body relax in his hold from just those two words alone. 

She pulled back just enough to look up into his eyes, trying to decipher the soft look in his gaze. He looked angelic. 

She wondered how someone so beautiful could hide so much sin behind eyes that looked like the keys to salvation. It seemed impossible to mask the vices of the Dark Lord, himself, underneath a man who appeared to all as an embodiment of virtue. Looking into his gentle stare, she wondered how many of her own mistakes he could see in her eyes-- she was starting to think that they were each tormented by the same demons. 

She knew that she was dancing with the devil, but if she had to venture into an inferno to drag him out to the light, she only hoped she wouldn’t burn herself too badly on her way. 

“Must we leave?” asked Tom, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. 

She smiled, the sound of his voice drawing her back to reality. “It’s practically your party,” she said, unbuttoning a third button on his white dress shirt. He put his hand on hers, holding her touch atop his chest. The feeling of his heartbeat beneath her fingers eased her mind. 

The sound of a soft knock on the door drew both of their attention. 

“Riddle?” said Avery’s voice from outside. “Is Ava with you?” Tom let out a groan, but Avalon chuckled, kissing his cheek before turning to the door and opening it up. Orion smiled at the two of them. “I was just looking for you two.”

“Clearly,” grumbled Tom, earning a well-deserved whack across the arm from Avalon. 

Avery didn’t seem to even notice, his eyes were already hazy-- evidently, he had already begun his celebrations as he fiddled with the cap of his flask in his hands. He looked between the two of them, smiling to himself when he noticed Tom’s hand on Avalon’s waist. “I like the ring,” he said with a chuckle as he saw the ring Avalon had bought for Tom. “You two ready? I was sent to fetch you both.”

“We’ll be down in a second,” Avalon promised, offering him a smile before he nodded and left them alone once more. She noted the scowl on Tom’s face and sighed. Convincing him that Orion wasn’t a threat was becoming more and more tedious by the day. “You know, he helped me pick out the ring.” Tom’s expression eased up a bit and, at the moment, that was enough for her. So, she just said, “Shall we go?”

He took in a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for the long night ahead. She was a bit confused as she watched him make his way over to his desk and grab a silver flask. He unscrewed the top and lifted it to his lips, taking a long drink.

“Spiked butterbeer?” she asked, a slight laugh in her voice.

He waited a few more moments before finally putting the flask back down, a grin on his lips when he replied, “What are we? Twelve?”

When he made his way back to her, he snaked his hand around her waist before leading the two of them out of his room and toward the party. The sound of music, cheering, chatting, and dancing was loud and abundant all throughout the estate. The walls shook with the presence of their peers as they made their way down the hall and to the stairs leading to the foyer. 

When they began their descent into the party, neither could ignore the feeling of a hundred eyes glued to them from the moment they stepped out from the shadows. Conversations came to a halt, attention drawn to the pair walking down into the light. 

He saw plenty of girls sending glares toward Avalon, and she saw plenty of guys sending glares toward Tom. 

His grip on her waist tightened as he pulled her closer to him, meeting the eyes of those who dared to display their jealousy. Though, it would be a lie to say he didn’t love seeing the looks of disappointment from his peers that had hoped they may have one day had a chance with her.

As they finally reached the bottom of the stairs, they blended into the rest of the party, joining the crowds as they scanned the room for their friends. Avalon spotted Axel, Rosalie, Kyra, and Orion all standing together, laughing and chatting amidst themselves.

Tom caught a glimpse of Rosier and Lestrange in a corner, a slew of women surrounding the duo. Lestrange was bent over a table, his nose grazing the wood as he inhaled a line of white powder before him. When he stood back up, his eyes met Tom’s for a moment and even through Xavier’s glossy eyes, Tom could see the fear that greeted him. 

Avalon led the two of them toward their friends, stopping next to Orion as the group smiled at them. “Look who decided to join us,” Avery grinned, nodding at the pair.

Avalon looked at Axel, who appeared to be rather calm despite the rowdy party commencing around them. “You look like you’re in better spirits tonight.”

The Seeker shrugged, a lazy smile on his lips. “If you can’t beat them, join them. Suppose there’s not much that a good cleaning charm can’t fix… and as bothersome as he is, I have to admit that Mulciber throws a good party.”

“Speak of the devil,” Rosalie said, motioning toward Demitri as he strode over, an air of satisfaction in his steps as he waltzed over. 

“Evenin’, kiddos,” he said, slinging an arm over Axel’s shoulder as he joined them. Avalon immediately noticed how dilated his pupils were, covering up nearly the entirety of his brown eyes. 

“Oi, Mulciber,” Avalon called out, laughing as he whipped around and raised his eyebrows at her. “What kind of a party doesn’t have any drinks?” she asked, looking around at the lack of bottles scattered around.

“Hendrix, Hendrix, Hendrix,” Demitri said, sauntering over and wedging himself between her and Tom, earning a glare from Riddle, though he was far too inebriated to notice. “Sweet, naive, Hendrix. You underestimate me, I’m heartbroken.”

“Didn’t you see the list of potions he made us buy in town?” Axel chuckled. 

“We won’t be needing drinks tonight,” Mulciber said with a wink before pulling out an iridescent coral-colored potion, the glimmering contents swirling around within the small vial. “One drop for a good night, two drops for a great year,” he said, unscrewing the top and pulling out a dropper. Without a moment of hesitation, he leaned his head back and put two drops onto the tip of his tongue before striding over to Axel and handing him the vial.

Avalon watched as Nott put two drops on his own tongue before turning to Rosalie and giving her a drop of the potion, too. It was then passed over to Kyra, who took her own dose while Orion turned to Demitri and asked, “What is it?”

“My own creation,” he replied proudly. “Euphoria Elixir with a hint of Aphrodisium.”

Avalon had taken Aphrodisium before. The twins typically had some on hand and brought it out at nearly every party they attended, much to everyone’s pleasure, and, needless to say, it had created several unforgettable nights... for everyone. 

Kyra passed the vial to Orion, who shook his head. “I’ll pass for the night,” he said, pulling out his flask and taking a sip, undoubtedly thinking of Clara as he turned down the stimulant. 

“Suit yourself,” Demitri chuckled. “Hendrix, you in?”

She glanced at Tom, wondering if he was planning on taking any. It seemed rather pointless to take the potion if he didn’t, so she awaited to see his reaction, first. But, much to her surprise, he reached out and took the vial from Avery, taking the dropper and holding it up before her lips. She bit back a grin before parting her lips just enough for him to put a drop onto her tongue. She narrowed her eyes at him as he began to move the dropper away and said, “Another.”

Mulciber looked at Tom, then back at Avalon, and groaned. “Lucky bastard.”

Tom raised his eyebrow at her. “You sure?”

“I’m not unfamiliar with its effects,” she shrugged.

Axel chuckled. “What are you all doing over at Durmstrang?”

She looked up at Tom, who sighed and dropped another bit of the potion into her mouth, earning a satisfied grin from her when the sweet liquid hit her tastebuds once more. Right after, he raised the dropper to his own mouth, taking an equal dose before handing Mulciber back the vial. 

Avalon already felt a rush of elation overcome her. It became near impossible to hold back the wide smile that stretched across her cheeks. 

Happiness. 

Just pure happiness. 

One glance at the others in the group and she knew that they were all in the same boat. Carefree looks of contentment graced their features, laughter spilling from their lips at nothing in particular as they transcended to a state of euphoria. 

“Euphoria hits first,” Mulciber said, a lazy smile on his lips as he looked at his friends. “Aphrodisium in half an hour,” he added, patting Axel on the back before glancing around the group. “Have fun, fellow degenerates!” he said, waving to them as he began to make his way off once more. “Patil, join me?”

Kyra laughed before nodding and walking off with him, calling over her shoulder-- more so to Avalon and Rosalie-- with a smile, “Find me on the dance floor later!”

“I’ll be with the rest of the Quidditch boys if any of you need anything,” Orion said, waving before making his way toward a group of teammates on the balcony, who cheered as they saw him approaching and immediately swallowed him up into their ranks. 

Avalon looked up at Tom, who had a confident smirk strewn across his lips as he snuck his arm around her waist. The rest of the group was already far too giddy to even notice, and instead they all migrated to the couches, laughing and joking with each other as time went on. 

Watching the slew of faceless bodies all blend into an indistinguishable heap of dancing figures before them nearly put Avalon in a trance. A feeling of weightlessness had dominated all of their senses-- as if they were bound to a night that was alive, eternal, and inconsequential. 

Minutes ticked by as if they were mere seconds, time becoming nothing more than an abstract concept to her as she dipped in and out of her conversations. It was growing harder and harder to focus on the things before her. 

She was starting to feel a shift in the atmosphere of the party. 

The lights seemed brighter...the music louder...the velvet of the couch softer...the breeze from the balcony cooler. 

Her heart was thumping so loud in her chest that she could hear it reverberating through her ears, mixing with the pounding music that echoed through the estate as the night took hostage the peace that had once surrounded them. 

When she felt his arm find its way around her waist, pulling her to him until she was pressed against the warmth of his body, it sent sparks through her entire being. His touch felt electric… hypnotic… addicting. 

Slowly, she turned to face Tom, only to find his stare already glued to her. His eyes were dominated by widened pupils and insatiable lust, a dark hunger strewn into his gaze as he raked his eyes up her body. 

He looked like a semblance of divinity. For the first time, she saw tiny specks of gold strewn through his dark eyes when the lights hit them just right, and she swore it looked as though he had a thousand mystic stars embedded into his stare. 

A single curl had fallen out of place, so she reached out and brushed it back, but the instant her finger grazed his skin, she felt as though everything around them faded to nothingness.

All that was left was him. Just him. 

She couldn’t look away, she couldn’t pull away, she couldn’t turn away. And it didn’t seem like he could, either. 

When he reached out and took her hand into his own, she could see the way he drew in a sharp breath the moment their fingers intertwined. Every touch sent jolts through their bodies. Every glance made the world around them disappear. And every moment was a limitless venture into an irresistible desire. 

She couldn’t focus on anything other than the overwhelming scent of smoke… cologne… him. All her senses felt heightened, and all of them were pointing her right back to him. His smell, his touch, his beauty… 

Her thoughts were momentarily broken when she saw Rosalie and Axel brush past them, their hands grasping for each other as they made their way to a private balcony, shutting the door behind them. 

“Tom.”

Avalon whipped around at the sound of the unfamiliar voice, narrowing her eyes at the girl with long, sandy brown hair walking toward them, her red dress swaying as she strode over. Her green eyes were overtaken by the darkness of her blown pupils, and as she sauntered over, Avalon knew that she was already under the effects of the Aphrodisium. 

“Happy birthday,” the girl cooed, her seductive whisper just barely audible over the sound of the music. She put a hand on his upper arm, looking into his eyes when she asked, “Can I steal you for a dance?”

Tom’s lips twisted into an amused smirk as he opened his mouth to reply, but Avalon spoke before he could. “No, I think not.” The girl glanced at Avalon, furrowing her brow ever-so-slightly and earning a scowl in return before Avalon shooed her away. “Bye!”

The girl frowned, but didn’t say another word as she scurried off, leaving the two of them alone once more. Avalon couldn’t wipe the irritation off her face as she watched the girl blend back into the crowd before them, but Tom was a picture of pure enjoyment. “What was that?”

“Merlin, the nerve of some people,” she grumbled. 

“She only wished to dance,” he said, his voice low. “Isn’t that what you do with Avery?”

If looks could kill, she would have just successfully ended Tom Riddle. He chuckled at the pointed glare she sent his way, but she found no amusement in his laxity. “Orion is my friend. Is she your friend?”

He shrugged. “She could be.” She laughed in disbelief, shaking her head as he grinned. “Who’s the jealous one now, dove?”

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t love seeing her this way. To see her so bothered by his divided attention only reminded him of how much she wanted his sole focus. Usually, he would be more than happy to give it to her, but at that moment, he quite liked watching her like that. 

“I don’t know, but we can find out,” she said, a mischievous glint in her eyes. 

“Is that a challenge?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. 

She bit down on her bottom lip, trying to hold back her own grin now. “Perhaps.” 

“Do you really want to play that game with me?” 

“Do your worst, Tommy,” she whispered in his ear before standing up and making her way toward the dance floor. 

She left feeling rather triumphant, as though she had the upper hand, but as she glanced at him over her shoulder, she already saw two girls approach him and take seats on either side of him on the couch. His eyes met hers, a subtle grin on his lips as he relaxed and rested his arms on the back of the couch a moment before turning his attention to the two girls on either side of him, flashing them his most charming smile as they engaged in conversation. 

Avalon rolled her eyes, taking in a deep breath and trying to calm her nerves before she scanned the area around her. Her first instinct was to go out onto the balcony where Orion had gone. When he saw her approaching, a look of confusion bore into his eyes when he noticed she wasn’t with Tom. “Ava?”

The eyes of all his teammates quickly turned to her, checking first to see if Riddle was behind her, then eyeing her excitedly when they noted his absence. She put on a sweet smile and turned to Orion. “Why don’t you introduce me to the team?”

“Where’s-”

“He’s busy,” she said, cutting him off without letting the smile leave her lips. 

Despite his confusion, Orion slowly said, “Uh, lads, this is Avalon. Avalon, this is…”

She didn’t listen while he listed off their names, but she could feel a pair of eyes drilling into the back of her head as she smiled at the team. 

Tom felt his jaw clench as he watched Avalon accept a cigarette from one of the Quidditch boys, only to have all the rest of the fumbling idiots pull out their wands and try to light it for her. She finally let one of them ignite it, taking a slow drag while batting her lashes at the group, her laughter ringing through Tom’s ears even through the sounds of the party around him. Watching her put a hand on one of their forearms made him take in a sharp breath, but the feeling of lithe hands on his chest drew him away. 

Avalon exhaled the smoke of the cigarette as she scanned the group, trying to figure out which boy she thought would get under Tom’s skin the most. Once she had her sights set on the right one, she met his eyes, a flirtatious smile on her lips. It only took a moment for the sandy blond boy to walk over, extending a hand out to her. “Would you care to dance?”

“Of course,” she replied. Before taking his hand, she took the cigarette from her lips and placed it into one of the other boy’s mouths, winking at the awestruck athlete before turning her attention back to the blond with the outstretched hand. When she finally met his touch, she had to try and ignore the jolts that ran through her body. They weren’t as strong as they had been when she had touched Tom, but the Aphrodisium made it impossible for her to deny the truth… she still felt good.

The two of them walked to the dance floor hand in hand. The boy looked rather pleased with himself, a smug grin on his lips as he made his way past a hoard of jealous onlookers who were all wondering how he had managed to steal away one of the school’s most sought after girls. 

The dance floor was so packed that she felt her body forced to press up against his, not that she was complaining. His muscular arms had found a home around her waist, pulling her closer to him. It felt odd to have anyone other than Tom touch her like that, but as her skin burned with the intensity of his hold, she couldn’t deny that she was having fun. 

She felt everything. Every brush against her hips, every touch along her back, every hand on her skin. Everything was magnified… multiplied… 

The world was hazy, but the colors were brighter. The sounds louder. The people closer. She was drawn to the energy in the room, every single person captivating in their own way as she glanced around, her heart racing in her chest. 

It was tough to calm her own senses. She couldn’t seem to escape the euphoria that had shrouded around her, but why would she want to?

Just when she felt the Quidditch boy’s hands on her hips, she slowly dragged her eyes back at the one person she wanted most. The two girls from before were still beside him, their hands lazily propped on his chest, his knee, his shoulder… but his eyes were only focused on Avalon. 

She met his gaze and smirked, dropping her hands until they rested atop the boy’s. Keeping her eyes locked with Tom’s, she slowly moved his hands up her body, biting down on her lip as she felt her skin burn with the effects of the potion. 

When she saw Tom stand up, leaving the girls on the couch, and begin walking to the dance floor, she felt victory rising within her. His face was stoic, but she could see his true irritation behind his eyes as he neared her. But, instead of walking to her, he walked right past her, grabbing a hold of the girl from before. Her green eyes lit up in an excited confusion as he pulled her past Avalon and toward an armchair in the corner of the room. 

Watching as he sat down, motioning for the girl to take a seat on his lap, Avalon let out a scoff. She hated seeing him with anyone else. She wasn’t even sure if it was the Aphrodisium or if she couldn’t stand watching him focus on another girl, but either way, she wanted to go over there and steal him back.

She wanted to go up to him and pull him to her, put his hands on her body, and kiss him. 

But, where was the fun in that?

So, she just returned her attention to the boy behind her. 

Tom wasn’t listening much to the girl on his lap. Her words didn’t interest him and his attention was elsewhere, but he made sure to keep a smile on his lips as he pretended to give her his undivided focus. When her fingers grazed his skin, he felt sparks under the effect of the potion, but it was still only a tease of what he felt when it was Avalon with him, instead. 

Watching her dancing with that moron from the team was driving him to his limits, but he knew she was just as bothered as he was. And he intended to win their little game. 

When he saw her motion toward another Quidditch boy, he had to bite down on the inside of his cheek to try and hide the irritation on his face. The two boys danced on either side of her, one in front and one behind, and she wasn’t showing any signs of stopping. Her eyes met his for a moment, a maddening smile on her lips as she reveled in the bacchanalian debauchery around her.

Merlin, he had almost forgotten how infuriating she could be when she wanted.

He turned his attention back to the girl on his lap, his hands dancing up the sides of her dress while he kept Avalon’s stare. Even he was a little caught off guard when he felt the girl’s lips press against his neck, leaving a trail of burning kisses along his skin. But, when he saw Avalon’s eyes widen, he grinned and tangled his fingers in the girl’s hair, pulling her closer. 

What he hadn’t expected, however, was to see Avalon roll her eyes, wrap her arms around one of the boy’s necks, and start to lean in toward him. 

_ Absolutely not. _

He stood up, the girl stumbling off him and onto the armchair with an annoyed huff. He could hear her calling out to him, but he didn’t fucking care. All he could do was storm over to Avalon, catching her a moment before her lips met the bastard’s. 

He pried them apart angrily, grabbing her wrist and yanking her off the dancefloor, tearing her away from her new… ‘friends.’ The instant he was reunited with her touch, though, a portion of his anger faded. She was like ecstasy-- and he was just glad to have her back.

Mulciber climbed atop a table as the two of them made their way to the edge of the dancefloor The long haired delinquent pressed his wand to his neck, projecting his voice through the party. “One minute until midnight!”

People began scrambling to find a partner, or their friends, or just grab their flasks, but Tom just cornered her against a wall, his breathing heavy as he loomed over her. 

She grinned up at him, her hands roping around his neck the moment they stopped walking. “So I take it I won?”

They both felt their bodies aching for each other’s touch. It was almost too much to bear. She wanted him. He needed her. And they both were done waiting. 

“But...” he said, his thumb outlining the curve of her lips before he slid his hand down to her neck, wrapping his fingers lightly around her throat as a subtle hint of what was to come, “...at what cost?”

“Cost?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

His voice was low and raspy when he leaned over her ear, whispering, “You didn’t think I’d let you just get away with that, did you?”

“You don’t own me, Riddle. You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do,” she said defiantly. 

“Five!” the crowd around them cheered, staring at the sparkling countdown that Demitri had conjured. 

Avalon stared up at Tom. Her words were angry, but her eyes still lustful. 

“Four!”

“Tonight I will,” he said, his grip on her neck tightening.

“Three!”

“Is that so?” she smirked.

“Two!”

He nodded. 

“One!”

“Just fucking kiss me, Tom.”

The room erupted with cheers and celebration as the clock struck midnight. 

Tom moved his hand to the side of her face, pulling her lips against his own and meeting her for a starved kiss. Every part of them burned from within the moment they finally gave in to desire and found each other once more. 

It was cathartic. 

Like finding water after 40 days and 40 nights in the desert. Like giving in to the serpent and finally biting into the forbidden fruit. Like the promise of salvation at the end of a flood. 

Clinging to one another to worship the closest thing they knew to heaven on earth.

The sweetest type of sacrilege.

He pulled away, but his eyes were dark with an uninhibited fervor as he looked at her with burning desire. She could barely see the brown of his eyes anymore, but she assumed she looked quite the same. 

Before she knew what was happening, he dragged her away past the crowds of still-celebrating partiers, leading them back to his room. He opened the door and roughly pulled her in, slamming it shut and locking it behind them. 

He walked forward until she was backed up into his desk. With a quick swish of his wand, he impatiently cleared the contents onto the ground, ignoring the way they clambered onto the wooden floors with a series of loud crashes and clanks. In their wake, he hoisted her up onto it, keeping one arm under her back as he lowered her down to lie atop it and tossed his own wand onto his bed not too far away. 

The cold marble of the desk made her skin erupt in a million goosebumps, and the heightened sensations she had from the Aphrodisium made her take in a sharp gasp. But, the warmth of his touch along her back made her ease into his hold, her body fitting with his like missing pieces of a puzzle. 

His free hand ran needily up the slit of her dress, his fingers desperate to touch every inch of her. In his haste, he tugged harshly on the fabric, the thin band of crystals holding the slit together coming undone and scattering onto the floor, sounding like rainfall against a stone pathway. 

“I liked this dress,” she complained playfully. 

He held her stare while he moved both hands to grasp either side of the dress’s slit. With an apathetic look on his face, he tore the dress apart, ripping it in half in one swift motion. “I told you it would go to waste,” he growled, lifting her just enough to tug the remnants of torn fabric out from beneath her. He had to bite back his desire as he looked at her beneath him, fully exposed except for thin, lace underwear. 

She opened her mouth to say something, but the feeling of his lips on her chest broke her resolve and she succumbed to his presence. His hand ran up the side of her body, sending jolts of electricity down her spine with every touch until he cupped the curve of her breast. He kissed down along her body until his mouth latched onto her right nipple, swirling his tongue along it while his free hand twisted the left, a grin finding its way onto his lips when he felt the way her sensitive body reacted to his touch. 

Her fingers tangled into his hair, pulling desperately, and he let out a groan against her skin. Both of them were panting at every single touch-- the effects of the potion making their bodies desperate for one another. 

They didn’t want each other, they needed each other. 

She tugged at his hair and he nipped at her skin, knowing that he was going to be leaving a slew of purple marks across her body. 

_ Good _ , he thought.  _ Maybe then the other boys will know never to touch her again.  _

He felt her fingers grappling with the buttons on his shirt, desperate to tear it off, so he shrugged the thin fabric off his shoulders the moment she finished undoing the last button. Their skin finally met when he pressed his body against hers, holding her close while he left purple reminders of his possession all along her neck. 

They both desperately clawed at the other, their bodies needy for as much contact as possible. Each and every touch sent euphoric jolts through their beings, unlike anything they had felt before. Even in their past experiences with Aphrodisium, they had never felt such an indescribable energy coursing through them. 

It felt as though they were reborn out of their own sins.

“Tom,” she just barely made out, her free hand sliding down to her wand strapped to her thigh. “Silencing charm.”

Just as her fingers grabbed her wand, he grasped it out from her hold and threw it aside, shaking his head before leaning down and kissing behind her ear. When he spoke, his hot breath against her skin sent sparks through every inch of her being. “I want the boy you almost kissed to hear me fuck you.”

She opened her mouth, but he caught it in a kiss before she could speak. His actions were driven by a combination of anger and lust, the two of them fighting for control as he kissed down her neck. 

He moved his hand down between her thighs and pushed her underwear to the side, running a finger along her and taking in a sharp breath when he felt how ready she already was for him. “Could he make you this wet, dove?”

She had to try her hardest to hold back the moan that was threatening to spill from her lips, but she didn’t want to give in to him quite yet. His jealousy was addictive. And at that moment, she wanted to push him further. 

“Maybe he did.”

She saw the way his entire demeanor shifted-- there was a look in his eyes so daunting that she couldn’t tell if it belonged to a demon or a god. 

He knew she was pushing him, and if consequences were what she wanted, then that was what he would give her. 

He flipped her over onto her stomach without another word, his outstretched palm making immediate contact with her skin, leaving a glowing red imprint just below the waistband of her thong. 

She let out a mixture of a cry and a moan the second his hand met her skin, a burning sting lingering behind when he grabbed her by the hair, yanking her head up so he could snarl into her ear, “If you’re going to behave like a whore, then I will treat you like one.” He ran his hand along the mark he had just created before asking, “Are you a whore, Avalon?”

Words failed her. So, she just took in a deep breath, biting down on her bottom lip and choosing to not answer.

Her silence only lasted a moment before she felt his hand leave another searing print along her skin, right by the last. The impact this time was much harder and she couldn’t stop the cry that fell from her parted lips. 

“Who do you belong to?” he snarled. 

Her voice was frail when she said, “You.”

“Say it again, louder,” he demanded. 

“You,” she repeated, letting out a sigh of relief when she felt him trace a soft line up her back. 

“Smart girl,” he said, satisfaction dripping off his tongue. He slowly pulled her back before flipping her over and lifting her to her feet before him. “Do you trust me?” he asked as he began walking toward her.

“No,” she replied, taking a step back as he stalked her forward as if he were a hunter and she were his prey. Her answer made a slight smirk tilt his lips upward, yet she continued, “But, whatever you want, tonight I’m yours.”

“Whatever I want?” he grinned, backing her up until her knees hit the bed. 

She sat down, staring up at him as he stood before her. “Anything.”

He let out a light laugh, shaking his head. “You’ll regret that.”

He was tired of waiting, so he climbed atop her, laying her down on the bed as he began to kiss her again, his tongue outlining hers as he swallowed her up in fervent passion. His hands ran along the side of her body, both of them ignited by the intensity of their touch. 

She needed him. The feeling of his hands running along her skin everywhere was driving her mad, but he refused to touch her where she needed. So, she tried to move his hand down to her core, desperate for the feeling of his fingers. 

“Not yet,” he mumbled into their kiss, pulling his hands back up to cup her face. She let out an impatient huff and moved her own hands down to touch herself, but he caught her wrist before she could. “I said not yet,” he hissed as he pulled away from her. She watched as he used his free hand to undo his belt, keeping his dark eyes glued to her the whole time. “Hold out your other hand,” he demanded. 

She swallowed down her nerves and lifted her other hand before him, only to have him bind her wrists together and pull them up over her head, looping the belt around her hands and cuffing her to the headboard. When he tightened the strap, she watched as the smirk on his lips only grew more satisfied at the way she struggled against the restraint to no avail. 

“I’m the only one who gets to touch you tonight,” he said before climbing back atop her, pulling her underwear down off her body. His fingers finally dragged slowly along her core. “Is this what you wanted?”

She whimpered at his touch, trying to move her hips so he would give her the release she wanted, but he was enjoying himself far too much to give in. “Please,” she cried out.

“Please what?” he asked, a sadistic smile on his lips. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but he slid two fingers into her, curling them and watching as she moaned out in pleasure, only to take them out a moment later and watch her eyes flash with pure desperation. “Tom…”

“I said tell me what you want me to do. Plain and simple.”

“Touch me,” she whimpered, writhing against the belt around her wrists. 

He chuckled, running his hands along the inside of her thighs. “I am touching you. You’re going to have to be more specific than that.”

“Your hands. I want…” she took in a sharp breath when he ran tantalizingly his fingers along her once more. “I need… Fuck. Just please fuck me with your fingers, Tom.”

As soon as his name left her lips, he dipped two fingers deep into her, pulling them in and out as she rocked her hips against him, a euphoric symphony of her moans filling the room. He moved his thumb to rub her clit, watching as she closed her eyes shut, a look of divine ardor painted across her face. 

His touch was hypnotic. She couldn’t contain herself around him, nor did she care to. Everything felt good. Everything felt alive. Everything felt like heaven.

He could feel her movements grow erratic, her breathing more labored, and her moans louder, but he didn’t dare slow his pace. His fingers pushed in and out while his lips latched back to hers, swallowing her moans with his hungry kiss. 

“Tom,” she finally panted out against his lips. He hummed a quiet response against her, and she cried out. “I’m close.”

He knew she was. He always knew when she was nearing her finish. It was obvious. So, he quickened the pace of his fingers, smiling to himself each time she let another moan slip from her swollen lips.

And, just before she was about to finish, he pulled his fingers out. 

The sudden loss of contact made her eyes shoot back open. “Tom,” she cried out, tugging against the restraints around her wrist. “Please…”

“You can finish when I say you can finish,” he said. “Understood?” She looked up at him with a tormented look in her eyes that filled him with pride. “You didn’t think I’d let you come that quickly after you almost kissed that bastard, did you?”

She looked down, avoiding his eyes as she tried to catch her own breath. 

With a light laugh, he undid the buttons on his pants before pulling them down along with his underwear. Slowly, he lined himself up with her, running his tip along her, biting down on his bottom lip when he felt her wetness against him. 

She ached for him and tried to move her hips forward, but he just pulled away again, raising an eyebrow at her. “Patience, dove,” he said, once again teasing her with only a taste of what she craved. 

“Please,” she whined out. “Fuck me.”

“Are you asking or telling me what to do?” 

“Just hurry up, Tom,” she begged. “Please-”

He rolled his eyes, grabbing one of his ties off his bedside table and shoving it into her mouth forcefully, grinning when he saw her gag on the fabric, her eyes widening. Finally, he pushed into her, but still only with the first few inches of himself. “I’ll fuck you when I want to fuck you.”

His right hand slid up her body until it found a home on her throat, his grip tightening as he tried to hold himself back from rocking fully into her. Every time he began to enter her, he watched as she tried to moan out, but the sound was silenced by the cloth in her mouth. Her eyes were beginning to brim with tears from the constant teasing, but he didn’t care.

He fucking loved it.

She was a quivering mess beneath him and he knew he could torment her further, but even he was running out of patience. So, without wasting another moment, he rocked fully into her, his eyes sinking to watch the way she stretched around him to fit every last inch inside her. She was so tight around him that he let out a small hiss as her body clenched around his, a single tear falling down her cheek as she closed her eyes and felt his grip on her neck tighten. 

She had lost herself in nirvana. Every time he thrust into her, it was the perfect balance between pleasure and pain-- his size filling her to her limits in the most maddening way. He knew exactly what he was doing as he sped up his pace, making sure his pelvis ground against her clit with every deep stroke. 

He wasn’t being gentle-- he didn’t want to, nor did she want him to be. There was no sign of tenderness in his movements-- just carnal desire and a desire for dominance. 

When she forced her eyes open to look at him, everywhere she looked, she saw stars. 

He looked like an angel and the devil all at once-- equal parts seraphic and ungodly. Heavenly and sinful. Divine and unholy. 

A beautiful mess of light and dark that she found herself getting lost in. 

She felt herself nearing her finish again. Even through the fabric shoved in her mouth, she couldn’t suppress the desperate moans that were ripping through her lips at this point. 

Her body was hardly her own anymore, her movements driven by a force beyond herself as her legs quivered and her back arched in needy pleas to near her end. Her finish was quickly approaching, her wrists turning red from how desperately she was struggling against the restraints on her hands. 

She closed her eyes once more, knowing she was moments away from sweet release.

“Do you want to come for me, dove?”

She couldn’t form words, all she could do was nod, every inch of her skin burning with the intensity of his hold. 

“That’s too fucking bad.”

And, once again, Tom pulled out, denying her what she wanted so badly. 

The loss of contact was so torturous that she felt tears brim her eyes, her entire body alight with the painful temptation of her own finish. 

Her bottom lip was quivering violently as she looked up at him, her face contorted into a mess of pleasure, pain, and pure need. She looked as though she were at her breaking point, but he didn’t care. 

He could hear her whimpering against the tie in her mouth and smiled to himself. Slowly, he moved his hand from her neck and pulled the tie out of her mouth, tossing it aside so he could hear the way she was crying out for him. “If you hadn’t been such a fucking slut earlier, I would have let you finish by now.”

He reached over her and slowly began undoing the belt around her wrists. “Don’t even think about touching yourself,” he said, his own breathing choppy as he tried to ignore his own pounding erection. He motioned for her to bend over for him and she shakily obliged, arching her back and giving him a good view of her swollen cunt. He had to bite back his own lust as he looked at how she was dripping for him, her legs shaking as she tried to keep herself steady.

Slowly, he bent forward and looped the belt around her neck, holding it in one hand while his other grabbed her by the hips and guided her back onto him, both of their moans blending into one. 

His thrusts were rough and erratic, driving her to her peak in mere moments. He saw her hands start to move down between her thighs and yanked at the belt in his hands, watching as her head yanked back and she let out a sharp yelp. “What did I say about touching yourself?” he growled.

“Tom,” she cried, her voice breaking. “Please… please.”

Hearing her begging for release only fueled his own ego, taking him to his own personal heaven with every moan, every cry, every whimper that fell from her cherry lips. 

He knew she wouldn’t last long, and at that point, neither would he. So, he thrust into her a few more times before forcing himself to pull out again, earning another choked sob from her as he pulled on the belt and tugged her toward him before rolling her onto her back so he could watch her as she neared her finish, again. 

He wasted no time, hoisting both of her legs up over his shoulders as he pounded into her, putting all of his remaining energy into driving her to her peak one last time. Tears were spilling out from the corners of her eyes, but she still looked up at him with nothing but adoration in her gaze. 

“Tom,” she begged one last time, her voice so frail that he barely heard her. Her hands found their way to his back, her nails dragging down his skin so desperately that he hissed out, knowing she was leaving scratches.

“Come for me, dove,” he said, his lips latching onto her neck and leaving a searing trail of hot kisses along her skin.

He felt her finish around him, the sensation enough to drive him to his own edge. As he listened to her moan out his name, he rode out his own high, thrusting into her one last time before his own finish tore mercilessly through his body, pleasure and ecstasy washing over the both of them as they clung to each other in their moments of sweet bliss. 

Neither one of them had any energy left within them as they slumped beside one another on the bed, detangling their limbs and trying to catch their breaths before he pulled her toward him, still desperate for the feeling of her skin against his. 

She was stunning, he thought as he looked at the beautiful girl before him. Beads of sweat lined both their foreheads, but she only looked as though her skin was glistening with a million stars every time she moved. Her hazel eyes were barely open, but he put his finger beneath her chin and made her look at him, her exhaustion overtaking her senses as she tried to meet his gaze.

“Don’t you ever fucking think about kissing someone else in front of me again,” he said.


	45. Chapter 45

Tom awoke to the feeling of Avalon moving in her sleep. 

His gaze slowly drifted over to her peaceful figure, wrapped up in blankets, curled into a tiny ball beside him. The feeling of her skin pressed against his own was the best thing to wake up to, in his opinion, and he found it growing harder and harder to leave bed every day. 

Her skin was still littered with the remnants of the night before-- purple marks scattered along her body as reminders of his touch. Never in a million years would Tom have thought that the infuriating girl he had met four months ago would have ended up waking up in his bed nearly every morning, but he was far from complaining. 

He watched her for a few moments more, his fingers tracing soft figures along the curve of her hips, but he finally convinced himself to get out of the bed. Slowly, he shifted away from her, making sure to make as little noise as possible as he got up and started getting dressed. 

It had become abundantly clear to him over time that Avalon was a heavy sleeper-- how she managed to remain deep in slumber nearly every morning when he woke and attended to his morning activities was beyond him. But, he quite liked how he could steal glances at her peaceful self without having to worry about being caught staring. 

_ Merlin, she was beautiful. _

Once he had pulled on a fresh change of clothes, he silently made his way to the door, opening it up and walking out into the hallway. He glanced at her one last time, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he noted the slight part of her mouth as she slept before he closed the door behind him as quietly as he could.

He was immediately greeted by the catastrophic scene left behind in the halls. Empty vials littered the floor, several party-goers were passed out on the ground, and paintings were hanging crooked on the walls. 

The entire estate was filled with reminders of the debauchery that had ensued the night before, but Tom paid it little mind as he made his way to the dining room. The elves had already laid out breakfast, as usual. A large feast was strewn across the expansive table, seemingly untouched, though, as it appeared that most of the manor was still fast asleep. 

He walked over to the table, glancing around to see what was available. First, he grabbed a mug and poured a cup of coffee, adding in sugar and cream until it turned such a light brown it nearly looked like pure milk. 

How Avalon enjoyed her coffee that way, he would never truly be able to understand. 

He began to reach for another cup to pour himself his own drink when he was startled by a voice behind him. 

“I don’t recall you taking your coffee with cream and sugar.”

A sense of irritation overtook him almost immediately, but still, he turned around and met Rosier’s gaze. He bit the inside of his cheek, trying to hide his annoyance as he replied, “I’m trying something new.”

Adonis raised his brow, staring at the light coffee. “Really?”

Reluctantly, Tom raised the cup to his lips, taking a small sip and nodding. He had to hide the disgust that plagued him when he swallowed down the sickeningly sweet excuse of a coffee, mentally cursing Avalon for having the most horrendous taste in drinks. “You’re up early,” he said. 

“As are you. Rather surprising...” Adonis said, pausing before he finished his thought, “... as I saw you leave with Hendrix last night.”

“I am always up this early,” Tom shrugged, his face indifferent.

Adonis took a moment to carefully choose his next words, pouring himself a cup of coffee while he thought. Finally, he said, “So what is the deal with the two of you?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Tom said, narrowing his eyes. 

“I mean, I noticed you pull her away from two Quidditch lads last night while she was dancing. I have never seen you actually affected by any of the women you have bed.”

“Affected?” Tom said, raising an eyebrow as he set the coffee back on the table before him. 

“You’re fond of her, aren’t you?” the boy asked, taking a sip of his drink. He gave Tom a moment to answer, but his silence was enough to drive Rosier to keep speaking. “I’ve been noticing how you treat her. You allow her to spend night after night with you, you’re openly affectionate with her, hardly care to hide your relationship-- practically flaunting it, at that-- and have nearly cost Xavier his life several times on her behalf.”

Tom’s face was unknowingly twisting into a frown. Adonis had always been the most observant of the group-- the polar opposite of his imbecilic best friend, Lestrange. While typically being the quietest one in their circle, Tom knew that Rosier was actually quite clever. He cursed himself for being so careless that Rosier had noticed. Though, he hadn’t thought he was truly doing anything out of his own norm until he heard it all listed aloud. 

Still, he asked, “What exactly are you insinuating?”

Rosier glanced at the door, confirming their solitude, before he spoke once more. “You are destined for greatness. You’re ambitious and we have all had our sights set on a greater picture for years now. We have a plan and a vision, and atop that have sacrificed more for this mission than many would ever dare attempt. And I fear you are losing sight of all of that.”

“You’re wrong,” Tom snarled, growing angry. “You know nothing of any of this.”

“Then do you care to tell me why you refused to retrieve the cup with Lestrange?” Adonis shot back. “Don’t tell me that you are having doubts, Riddle. You are losing sight of who your real allies are and we are too far involved for you to go back on your word now!”

Tom shook his head, his lips deep-set into a frown. “I will not stay here and be subject to listening to your nonsense,” he said, striding toward the exit.

“You’re in love with her.”

The words stopped Tom right in his tracks. 

“You have said it yourself, time and time again: love is weakness,” Rosier said, his voice calm yet cold. “And if this is only a small mistake, so be it, but you have to put an end to it before it is too late. You and Hendrix are going down two opposite paths-- paths that will eventually collide in the most destructive way imaginable. You know that she won’t join this pursuit. She fights against  _ everything _ that we stand for! And in the end, she will only either hate you or die defying you.”

_ Love _ .

The word made Tom’s blood run cold. 

It felt foreign to him-- it always had been foreign to him. To hear it directed at his actions…

His own gospel was singing back to him, though the words sounded more like a taunt. 

Tom thought of Avalon, recalling that when he thought of peace, he thought of her sleeping figure… the way his heart felt homesick the moment that she left his presence… how the thought of her ever being in pain made him want to burn the whole world to the fucking ground. 

_ Love _ .

_ Weakness _ . 

_He was_ **_not weak_** _._

And he would not allow anyone to think otherwise. 

“I will take care of it,” he said coldly, shooting a pointed glare at Adonis. 

“I’m sure you will,” Adonis agreed. “After all, that is why we follow you.” He finished his cup of coffee in one long sip before setting it down on the table and nodding at Tom, exiting the dining room briskly and leaving behind a visibly bothered Riddle.

Adonis sighed as he made his way back toward the bedrooms, marching right up to Lestrange’s door and bursting in. He rolled his eyes when he saw the wealthy fool in his bed, two dark-haired women wrapped against him on either side. 

The two girls woke up in a startled panic when they heard him slam the door open, immediately tugging the blankets up to cover their skin, while Xavier just barely opened his eyes, letting out a groan when he saw his friend standing impatiently before his bed. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” 

“Out,” Adonis said to the girls. “Both of you. Now.” They opened their mouths to protest and Adonis snarled, “I said  _ now _ .”

They stumbled out of bed, still only in their undergarments as they grabbed their discarded clothes off the floor and bolted out the door, shutting it behind them as they ran back to their own rooms. Xavier shifted a bit, leaning up against his bed frame as he put his arms behind his head and stared at Adonis, an aggravated look on his face. “This better be good.”

Adonis grabbed his wand from his pocket, casting a cautious silencing charm on the room before he spoke. “I just spoke with Riddle.”

That caught Xavier’s attention.

He straightened up, narrowing his emerald eyes. “About?”

“His recent behavior,” he replied. “And Hendrix.”

“That bitch is blinding him,” Xavier said, shaking his head in disgust. 

“He said that he would take care of it. Now, we must wait and see if his word still holds any weight.”

“Much easier for you to say that, isn’t it?” Xavier snarled. “You haven’t made an Unbreakable Vow with him.”

“And what do you suggest we do instead, hm?”

He shrugged, his face contorted into a look of agitation. If he won’t handle it, I will.”

“You have a death wish,” Adonis warned him. 

“No. I am doing what I must to stay true to my word. Are you with me or not?”

“We should wait and see what he does.”

“I do not have the luxury of waiting!” Xavier shouted, his eyes livid. His breathing was erratic as he tried to calm down his own nerves, but Adonis took note of the way his friend’s hands were shaking violently as he gripped his own bedsheets. “I cannot sit here and have his weakness bring about the death of me-- I will not and can not break my Vow. So if I must act now, I will.” He took in a deep breath before tilting his head up and staring at the ceiling. “He will thank me… one day.” 

Tom’s feet carried him back to his bedroom, though his body moved reluctantly. Rosier’s words echoed around in his mind as a mocking reminder of all the things he had tried to ignore for so long. 

The boys in their inner circle were all useful to Tom because of their name, connections, or family assets. But, Rosier was different. He, himself, was an asset. His mind was sharper than the others, his observant nature proving to be valuable on more than one occasion. Tom had always valued his input, which is why hearing those words come out of his mouth rather than any of the others was particularly bothersome. He was not Lestrange, he did not speak out of jealousy, or vengeance… he was only a follower that had sensed Tom’s own carelessness: and that was what happened when Tom let his guard down.

When he opened his door, he made sure to be quiet as he took out his wand and motioned toward his suitcase, watching as his things began to neatly pack themselves away.

Avalon moved in her sleep, drawing his attention to her tranquil figure. It was near impossible for him to pry his eyes away from her. The white sheets still enveloped her delicate body in their soft embrace, washing her in an ocean of serenity. She had begun to cling to the pillow beside her, desperate to hold something in Tom’s absence, and every moment that passed by as he watched her only threatened to break his resolve even further. 

But he knew that Rosier was right. 

Avalon would never join the path that he was headed down. If he were to keep Avalon in his life, she would either come to hate him or die trying to stop him. And as much as it pained him, there was no other outcome.

He couldn’t stop the path that he was on-- no, he  _ wouldn’t _ . He had worked far too hard for far too long to allow a distraction to divert him from manifesting his full potential… his destiny. 

And that is what Hendrix was. A distraction. One that he had lost himself in for far too long, but it was time to return to his true fate. So, as much as it pained him, he knew what he had to do.

He dragged his eyes away from her and summoned his tightly packed suitcase to his hand, walking back out the door just as quietly as he had entered. 

\-------

Avalon felt the soft rays of the sun bathe her skin as the morning broke through the window. She opened her eyes, stretching her limbs as she began to sit up, clinging the blanket to her bare skin. The bed was cold where Tom had once been, though she didn’t pay it much mind, thinking he had likely gotten up and went for a shower, as he did every morning. 

What worried her, however, was his missing luggage. 

She glanced around the room, noticing how all his things were gone. A looming sense of confusion washed over her, though she tried to remain calm as she began getting dressed. She rolled her eyes at the ripped dress from the night before, picking it up and tossing it into a bin before searching the room for clothes to wear. 

She bent down and looked under the bed, noticing a sleeve peeking out from underneath. Her fingers grasped onto Tom’s sweater, pulling it out and holding onto the soft navy jumper he had seemingly forgotten to take along with him. 

_ Odd _ , she thought to herself.  _ He is typically rather thorough _ . 

Still, she pulled it on over her head, shuffling over to the mirror before she grabbed her wand and quickly concealed all the marks he had left on her body. A slight laugh escaped her lips when she looked at her own reflection-- she looked as though she were drowning in his clothes with the sleeves far too long and the jumper, itself, going past her thighs. 

Slowly, she made her way to the door, poking her head out and scanning the hallway before she scurried over to her own room. She grabbed her things and walked to the bathroom, freshening up before she threw on her own clothes and walked downstairs. People were slowly starting to wake, clearly still disgruntled from the night prior. 

She pitied Axel for the mess that had been made in his family’s estate-- there was broken furniture scattered around the dirtied rugs, discarded clothing strewn across the floors, and more than a dozen figures still passed out along the perimeter of the rooms. 

Her eyes landed on a familiar figure, though it was admittedly not the one person she had been originally hoping to find. Still, she walked up to Orion, who spotted her approaching and smiled excitedly. “Good morning!” he said, standing up and meeting her halfway across the room to wrap her in a hug. “Happy New Year! It appears I missed you last night and couldn’t find you after the clock struck midnight.”

“Sorry, I got a bit preoccupied,” she chuckled. “But, happy New Year to you, too.”

“Preoccupied, is it? That's what we’re calling it nowadays?” he asked, raising a brow. “I saw you and Riddle leave the party, which was rather odd considering you nearly kissed my teammate minutes prior.”

She felt a blush creep onto her cheeks, but let out a slight laugh. “Tom and I were playing… a game, of sorts. I won.”

He rolled his eyes, amusement on his lips. “Merlin, you two are bloody strange.”

“Speaking of Tom, have you seen him?” she asked, looking around. He was nowhere to be found. When she looked around, though, she met Rosier’s eyes from across the room. His cold gaze sent a shiver down her spine, but she ignored it and turned back to Orion. 

“No, I haven’t,” he answered, narrowing his eyes. “Was he not with you?”

She shook her head, slowly starting to feel a sense of uneasiness wash over her. “His things were gone when I woke up.”

“I’m sure something came up and he had to leave early,” he said, rubbing her shoulder. “Nothing to worry about.”

She nodded halfheartedly, but still felt nerves tugging away at her heart. “I should probably go check on him,” she muttered, pulling away from Orion. 

“That’s alright, plenty of people have begun to head back to their homes. I can thank Axel on your behalf-- I doubt he’ll be awake any time soon. If you go pack your things, I can walk you to the gates and you can apparate back.”

“Thank you,” she said, offering him a slight smile before running back upstairs and quickly gathering her things. Shortly after, the pair walked to the edge of the estate where she bid him farewell, at least until he returned to the castle, and apparated back to Hogsmeade. The trek back to Hogwarts wasn’t particularly long, yet it felt like an eternity. Intrusive thoughts constantly swirled around in her mind, her nerves strung high as she worried if Tom was okay. 

She couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that was lingering in her gut, but she tried to shove it aside and tell herself that everything was likely okay. Still, she made her way to her dorm and quickly dropped off her things, only opening her suitcase to grab the jumper that Tom had accidentally left behind. 

Without wasting another moment, she walked over to the Slytherin common room entrance, stating the password and going inside, making a direct path to Tom’s dorm. She opened the door without bothering to knock, letting out a slight sigh of relief when she saw him standing inside, reorganizing the things on his desk as he unpacked. 

He turned around when he heard her walk in, but his face remained devoid of emotion as he spoke. “What are you doing here, Hendrix?”

The cold tone of his voice caught her off guard. 

“When I woke up, you were gone,” she said, keeping her voice steady. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Everything is fine,” he replied, running a hand through his hair. She noticed he wasn’t wearing the ring she had gifted him. 

“Then why did you leave so suddenly?”

“I was unaware that I had to inform you of my constant whereabouts,” he said. His words made her feel as though she had just taken a strong punch to her gut. Suddenly, everything began to crumble beneath her, and she felt a looming sense of helplessness as she shook her head, confused. 

“Why are you acting like this?” she asked. 

Her frail voice left him feeling as though there was a knife being dragged through his chest, but he couldn’t let it sway him. This was best for both of them. 

Still, watching as her eyes filled with a look of broken betrayal as she stood before him, her fingers tightly grasping his neatly folded jumper, he almost ran forward and held her in his arms. 

Almost. 

“Break is nearly over,” he stated. “Back to reality.”

She shook her head, her eyes no longer wanting to meet his. “I don’t understand…” Her eyes then wandered to his bed, noting his open suitcase. 

Resting on his clothes was a small golden locket, green jewels aligned in the shape of an ‘S’ atop it. 

She had heard lore about the long lost locket of Salazar Slytherin, but seeing it in person… she suddenly felt sick to her stomach. 

“Why do you have that?” she asked cautiously, her eyes glued to the elusive piece of jewelry.

He followed her gaze, his eyes slightly widening when he saw what she was looking at. Quickly, he moved to his trunk and slammed it shut, standing before it and cutting off her view. “I think you should go.”

“Where did you get that, Tom?” she asked, her voice rising. “Why is Slytherin’s locket in your possession?” 

She didn’t know why she was asking-- the answer was rather obvious to her. Tom Riddle only had one reason for owning such a thing. 

It had to be the other Horcrux. 

She looked at him with so much pain in her eyes that he had to avert his gaze for a moment, but everything she was doing only proved the necessity of his actions. There was no future in which she wouldn’t hate him if she knew him-- the real him. His plans, his mission, his destiny. 

No matter what happened, she would always hate him. 

But if having her hate him was the only way to spare her from a future of pain, then he would do everything in his power to save her from the sin that he knew was destined to consume him and all those around him. 

She was light. And he could not corrupt her with his own darkness. 

“Leave, Hendrix,” he said, stepping toward her in hopes that she would back away. But, she didn’t.

Because she wasn’t afraid of him. 

Despite it all, she couldn’t be afraid of him. 

“Why are you being so cruel?” she asked, her voice demanding truth. “This isn’t you. I don’t believe it.”

He took another step forward, towering over her as he looked down at her sorrowful eyes. “You don’t know me. And you need to stop this delusion that makes you think that you do. I don’t know how I can make it any clearer,” he said, stepping toward her again, but this time watching as she retreated. “I.” step. “Don’t.” step. “Want.” step. “You.”

She backed up until she was by the door, her eyes no longer daring to meet his own as she stared at the ground before her, shaking her head and quietly muttering denials to herself as if she were a broken record left on repeat. 

“I said, _ get out _ ,” he hissed, pointing out the door. 

When her eyes finally met his again, he had expected to see anger, hatred, or even pain. But, what he was greeted by instead was a million times worse than any of those. 

He only saw disappointment. 

She held out the jumper in her hands, quietly muttering, “You left this at Nott’s,” before he took it from her shaking fingers and she turned around, walking out without another word, unknowingly taking a piece of his heart with her. 

When she closed the door behind her, it felt as though the oxygen in the room left along with her. He suddenly found it hard to breathe as he paced back and forth, tugging at the ends of his hair. He sat down on the side of his bed, trying desperately to quell the dull ache in his chest that threatened to tear apart his very soul. 

Everything felt as though it were broken. Every part of him threatened to crack, and he didn’t know what to do. So, he tried burying his head in his hands. His jumper was still in his grasp, and when it came close to his face, he felt his entire heart shatter all at once. 

It smelled like the feeling of returning home after ages spent afar, like sunshine on your skin after a cold winter, like spotting a lighthouse in the midst of a storm and knowing you’d be alright. 

It smelled like her. 

Fuck. It smelled just like her.

He couldn’t quite explain the pain he was feeling. It was something that he had never experienced before and it hurt so badly that he clawed at his own skin, trying to distract from the hurt inside. 

Surely, the pain would fade?

But, at that moment, as he felt the weight of his entire world come crumbling down around him, he knew with every bit of his being, that that pain would mark him for evermore. 

His eyes wandered over to his bedside table, where he had placed the ring she had given him just yesterday.

He knew that it was a bad idea, but, slowly, he reached out and slid it back onto his finger before raising his hand and pressing the cold metal to his temple, letting memories of better times flood his mind and numb his soul. 

\-------- 

It hurt.

It hurt to be awake, it hurt to think, it hurt to feel. 

It just hurt. Everything hurt. 

“I don’t know, she won’t tell me,” Zelda’s hushed voice said in the corner as she spoke to Orion. 

“I’ll try to speak with her,” he said back, his voice so quiet that Avalon barely heard him. 

She didn’t like how they were talking about her as though she weren’t right there, but she also didn’t have the energy to speak up. 

Talking hurt. 

Her throat was so raw from waking up to the sound of her own bloody screaming the last few nights that she couldn’t form words. The nightmares had taken hostage any sign of life she once possessed. 

After spending so many nights sleeping beside  _ him _ , she had almost forgotten how horrible it was to go night after night without a moment of peace. But, the last several nights had been a brutal reminder of the terrors that the darkness contained. 

“Ava,” Orion’s gentle voice said as walked to her bedside and knelt down beside her. “It breaks my heart to see you like this.”

Zelda joined her, as well, sitting down on the mattress and wrapping her arms around her roommate. “You know we’re here for you through anything, right, love?”

It felt nice to have Zelda back by her side. Avalon had missed her roommate dearly. She only wished she were in better spirits to properly welcome her back. 

Orion placed his hand atop hers, giving it a slight squeeze. “Please, talk to us. Let us help you.”

She didn’t know what she was supposed to say. The last few days before everyone had finally arrived at the castle had been spent doing almost nothing but sitting in her bed, trying to make sense of what had happened. But, the more she thought about it, the less she understood. 

His words echoed in her mind like a constant reminder of the moment she felt her heart break. 

_ ‘I don’t want you.’ _

He had been cruel to her before, but this time was different. In the past, they had been nothing more than enemies. His words bounced off her in due time, leaving no lasting scars. This time, though… this time he had hurt her in a way that few could ever fathom. He had earned her trust, earned her heart, and betrayed them both. 

No, she didn’t understand. 

She didn’t understand how he had gone from day to night in a matter of moments-- going to bed with her as one person, and awakening as another. She didn’t understand how he had seemingly forgotten everything that they shared between them, reverting back to his cold self that she had known from the moment she arrived in this time. 

But, more than anything, she didn’t understand how she had allowed herself to fall for someone like Tom Riddle. Someone who she knew was filled with nothing but evil. Someone she knew had hurt not only her loved ones, but herself, time and time again. Someone she thought that she could change…

How wrong she had been. 

So, no. She didn’t know what she was supposed to say. There were no words that could express how much it hurt to fall for someone only to realize that they were, after all, exactly what you had hoped they would not be. That no matter how much you loved them, there was no saving them from themselves. 

All she was left with were two realizations. 

First, that despite everything that she knew Tom would do… every horror that she knew he was capable of and every life that she knew he would take, she had fallen in love with him. 

How? She didn’t quite know, but she was beyond trying to deny it to herself. She loved him, and she wished that she didn’t, but it was true and it was real and that was what made the second realization hurt even more. 

He had never loved her back. 

_ ‘Tom Riddle views people as toys that he can use until he is bored. Then, he throws them away.’ _

Kyra’s words haunted her-- reminded her of how bloody naive she had been to think that she was any different. 

How wrong she had been. 

How terribly wrong she had been. 

That scared her more than anything, because if he didn’t love her, then she could never change him. And if she couldn’t change him, then she was only left one option…

An option that she knew would haunt her for the rest of her life if she followed through… an option that would tear her to pieces beyond repair.

How foolish she had been to make this harder for herself. 

She felt something land on her hand and slowly dragged her eyes down to glance at the yellow butterfly on her skin, delicately batting its wings as it perched atop her fingers. 

Orion watched her closely, hopeful that he’d see a semblance of happiness return into her bloodshot eyes as it usually did when he conjured the small butterflies for her. But, his own heart filled with dread as he saw the way she stared blankly at the creature, her expression just as empty as before. 

He sighed and got up on the bed, sitting on the opposite side where Zelda was and wrapping his arms around the two roommates as he joined in on the hug Zelda had started. “It’s going to be okay,” he whispered, but he feared that it was a white lie. 

Both he and Zelda were shocked when they heard Avalon quietly croak out, “Tom.”

Her voice was so hoarse, so frail, that they barely made out what she had said. Orion pulled away, narrowing his eyes. “I’m sorry, what?”

She took in a deep breath, staring at the wall before her as she said, just as softly as before, “It’s Tom.”

Orion felt his anger rising in his chest as he stood up, storming over to the door as he grumbled, “That fucking…”

But, before he could walk out, Zelda pointed her wand at the door and it slammed shut, locking him inside. “Stop for one damn moment and let her speak before you go off breaking bones!” she said, shaking her head. “Merlin, you bloody Slytherins…” 

“What did he do to you?” Orion asked, trying to bite back the fear in his voice. He had only ever seen Avalon look so broken after the night when Xavier had tried to attack her… his mind began racing to a million horrible things. 

But, somehow, he didn’t think Riddle would ever lay a hand on her. He didn’t know how the bastard had managed to hurt her so badly… the two of them had seemed so happy at Nott’s. And now… 

“Avalon, please,” Zelda sighed, rubbing her friend’s shoulder. “I can’t help you if I don’t know what you’re going through.”

She took in a deep sigh, looking between her two friends as they watched her with love and worry in their eyes. And, just like that, the pain began to pour out of her as she told them what had happened, falling apart before them like the shell of a girl who had her heart broken by the one person who had held it in the palm of his hand. 

Tears flowed out of her eyes like endless waterfalls of anguish. No matter how furiously she wiped them away, more would only take their place. Zelda hugged her tightly, trying to calm the shaking of her body, but it was a pointless feat-- she was a complete and utter mess. 

Orion had a look of pure shock on his face as he stared blankly ahead of him, trying to process everything he had just been told. He found it impossible to believe that Tom Riddle, the same boy who had asked him for advice on how to apologize to Avalon, would be so cruel to the same girl that he evidently cared so much for. “That doesn’t make any sense,” he said underneath his breath. 

“What do you mean it doesn’t make any sense?” Zelda asked incredulously. “It makes perfect sense. The boy is a bloody sociopath! He is physically incapable of caring about anything other than himself.”

“No, no, you don’t get it,” Orion sighed, shaking his head. “I have known him for ages now. I have seen him act like he cares about women, and I saw how he treated Avalon. It was different, and I I had never seen him like that before. He was not pretending with her.”

“That was what I thought, too,” Avalon sniffled, burying her head in her hands. “I just don’t understand what happened.” 

Zelda began to speak again, rolling her eyes. “What happened is that he-”

But, Avalon cut her off, her voice still hoarse but her tone increasingly agitated. “I am not ignorant, Zelda! You have been gone all break, you don’t understand what he has been like! Even Dumbledore said that he saw Tom was changing. I’m not crazy for believing it, alright?”

Her roommate went silent for a moment, her eyes wide. Slowly, she said, “I trust your judgement. I’m sorry if I made it seem like I didn’t.”

Avalon took in a deep breath. She didn’t know why she was so quick to jump to his defense. After everything he had done, after everything he put her through, she still wanted to believe that there was a part of him that hadn’t been acting this entire time. She wanted to believe that there was a part of him worth fighting for. 

And perhaps that would be her own downfall-- putting faith into people who did not deserve it. But, she couldn’t help it. She didn’t want to give up on him. 

“You still defend him,” Orion noted. He could see it in her eyes that she cared deeply for Tom-- to see it was beautiful and heartbreaking all at once. 

She took a deep breath, letting out a sigh. “There is a part of me that is still clinging to the hope that this is all some sort of misunderstanding.” 

“A misunderstanding?” asked Orion. 

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “All that I know is that he went to bed as one person and the next time I saw him, he was someone else entirely. I feel as though something happened between those two times that made something within him shift-- I just haven’t the slightest clue what it could be.”

“Love, I just don’t want to see you get your heart broken again,” Zelda said, putting a gentle hand on Avalon’s shoulder. 

“I know I sound absolutely mental,” she said. “But, I just… I can’t give up on him.”

“Ava…” Orion said quietly, a sad twinge to his voice. 

“You said it yourself,” she argued, looking at him. “That you believe there is good in every person.”

“But you don’t need to put yourself through this kind of heartache in order to find it. It’s not your job to save him.”

She felt a sad smile tug at her lips at the irony of the statement. “If I don’t, then who will?” 

“I will go talk to him,” Orion said, beginning to walk to the door once more. 

“No!” Avalon called out, stopping him. “I will,” she grumbled, wiping away her stray tears as she began to get up, herself. “I need to be the one who speaks with him.”

“What you need is some rest,” Zelda said, sitting her back down. “Riddle will still be here come morning. Have yourself a good night’s sleep-- Merlin knows you need it, love-- and go speak with him after breakfast tomorrow.” Avalon opened her mouth to protest, but her roommate cut her off. “No arguing, you know I’m right! This way, you’ll be rested and have time to think about what you wish to say to him, alright?”

Avalon looked at Orion for help, but he nodded, agreeing with Zelda. “She’s right.”

“Thank you!” Zelda said, throwing her hands up in the air. 

Orion lightly chuckled, an amused smile on his lips as he listened to Zelda lecture Avalon about the importance of a hearty breakfast. Once the spiel was concluded, Avalon groaned, “Fine! I’ll speak to him tomorrow! Bloody hell.”

“Good,” Zelda grinned. “Now, go take a shower, get yourself cleaned up, and I’ll get you a cup of tea. Okay?”

Avalon nodded, taking in a deep breath before offering them both a smile. “Thank you. Both of you.”

Orion smiled back, ruffling her hair and earning an annoyed huff out of her. “I will come by tomorrow morning to pick you up for breakfast.”

She found herself thanking the universe for somehow giving her these two wonderful people in her life. Even if she was going through hell, she couldn’t help but feel grateful for the friends that reminded her of better times. 

\---------

The next morning, Avalon sat with Orion at the end of the Ravenclaw table in the Great Hall. Dragging her out of her room had been quite a feat, but Orion managed to haul her over, much to Zelda’s approval. 

Breakfast wasn’t as packed as usual-- a good deal of students still hadn’t arrived back to the castle since classes weren’t set to start for another week. 

“You have to eat something,” Orion said, staring at her empty plate. “I promised Zelda that I’d make you eat, you can’t make me out to be dishonest.”

“I’m just not hungry,” she said, trying to force a smile but evidently failing miserably as she saw Orion roll his eyes and start scanning the food before them.

“Not even for…” he leaned forward, grabbing two blueberry-lemon scones, offering one to her as he took a bite of the other and wiggled his eyebrows. “... these?”

“I’m really not hungry,” she insisted, but he was persistent. 

“And I, unfortunately, will not be taking that as an answer,” he chuckled, shoving the scone toward her mouth, only to have her turn her cheek and try to dodge it. 

“Orion, I’m really not hungry!” she said as he tried to force it toward her again. “Stop it!” she laughed, trying to swat his hand away as he kept shoving the scone near her mouth.

“Just eat the bloody scone!” he said, trying not to laugh as he accidentally smashed the sweet into the side of her face. 

“Alright, alright!” she chuckled, finally giving in and turning her head to take a bite of the scone. 

Tom walked into the Great Hall, his eyes immediately landing on Avalon and Avery, the two of them laughing together at the foot of Ravenclaw’s table as the blonde fed her one of those bloody scones that she liked so much. 

They looked so… happy. 

_Good_ , Tom thought to himself. The closer she became with Avery, the easier it would be for her to move on from him. 

Avery was better for her. As much as he hated to admit it, Avery could give her what Tom knew he, himself, never could. A happy life. A  _ good _ life. 

Avery was many things, but above all else, the fool was good. Sometimes too much for his own sake. But, perhaps that was what Avalon needed. Someone who would be able to lead a life that she would be proud to be a part of.

Tom knew he could never give her that.

He took in a sharp breath, trying to ignore the way his heart sank into the pit of his stomach as he watched the pair smiling together as though they had not a care in the world. Her gaze met his a moment later, but he quickly looked away as soon as he saw the way her hazel eyes softened the instant she saw him. 

He tried to walk over to the Slytherin table, but she stood up and raced over to him as soon as she could. “Tom!” she called out. Hearing her say his name still made his stomach flip upside down, and he hated himself for feeling that way.

He was not the only one who had evidently heard her call out to him, though. Several eyes from their peers turned to watch them, curiously looking on to see what was going on. Tom could feel Rosier and Lestrange’s eyes burning holes into the back of his head as he turned to face her, making sure to keep his face as expressionless as possible. 

She had bags underneath her bloodshot eyes, he noted. The thought of her not sleeping well made him feel nauseous, but he tried not to think about it too much. He knew he didn’t look much better-- his own nights had been just as sleepless. 

He hadn’t realized how much the silence bothered him until it was because of her absence. 

Her voice was soft when she spoke again, her eyes staring into his with so much hope that it was hard to meet her gaze. “Can we talk?”

“I have nothing to say to you,” he said. 

“Well, I have plenty to say to you,” she shot back, raising her eyebrow. “You owe at least an explanation for-”

“I owe you nothing,” he said, silencing her. “Stop embarrassing yourself and  _ leave me alone _ .”

She began to open her mouth to speak, but he turned his back to her and walked away before she could. As she watched him make his way over to Rosier and Lestrange, taking a seat beside Adonis, she felt her patience begin to run thin. 

As much as she wanted to believe that it was possible to fix things by having a mature conversation, she knew that their entire relationship had been born out of fury and fights-- if that was what it was going to take to get him to speak to her, then so be it. 


	46. Chapter 46

Tom sat at his desk, head buried in a book about Merlin-knows-what. He couldn’t focus, which only angered him more. 

Though, admittedly, it was no mystery why he couldn’t focus… he hadn’t been sleeping at all. How could he? His bed felt empty without her beside him. 

Every single moment of every single day was spent wanting to run to her and fix this disaster. But, he had to remind himself of why he couldn’t. 

He would never be what she needed.

Even if he wanted to, it was too late. He was already too far along his path to damnation to ever drag her along with him. He had committed too many sins, tarnished his soul beyond repair, and committed himself to a future filled with all the things he wanted to keep her far away from. 

It was too fucking late. 

He had already done what he did best: hurt her. That’s all he ever really did… hurt people. And she had been no different. But, this was the first time in his entire goddamn life when hurting someone else inflicted the same type of pain on him. 

It haunted him. It haunted him thinking about what they had… what they had lost. He knew that the story of their ‘almost’ would live within him, taunting him for the rest of his life. 

He thought about what Adonis had said. 

_ ‘You’re in love with her.’ _

Tom had experienced pain in many forms throughout his life, but nothing had ever compared to this. Nothing had ever compared to the way he felt his heart rip at its seams And if this is what ‘love’ was-- this feeling of drowning with your head still above water-- then he didn’t want it.

He just needed to avoid her for a little longer. Try and clear his mind while the pain of losing her subsided. He needed to…

The door burst open and in stormed Avalon. 

“I’m here to talk,” she declared, crossing her arms after slamming the door behind her. 

“I told you I have nothing to say to you,” he said, sighing. 

“And I am telling you that I don’t care,” she retorted, staring him down. The look in her eyes was something that he had seen on many occasions before. She was no longer blinded by her heartbreak, she was not weakened by her shock… Avalon had come ready for a fight. 

They looked at each other for a moment, neither one wanting to speak. There was an odd aura in the room. They did not greet each other as lovers, nor friends, or even enemies-- but rather strangers who shared far too many memories with one another. 

She noticed how many books and papers were scattered along his floor, atop his bed, around his desk… how his hollow eyes looked as tired as her own… how despite everything he had said to her, she still felt her heart tug at how miserable he looked. 

She knew that she loved him because it didn’t matter to her how many times he had broken her heart, she still didn’t hate him. 

“Do you have any idea what you have put me through these past few days?” she asked, keeping her voice as cold as she could. “Why do you think you have the right to treat me this way? You don’t get to act the way you did-- as if you cared for me-- and then wake up and decide to be someone entirely different. I want to know what changed.”

“Why can’t you get it through your head that I do not want you,” he said, his tone equally chilling. But, still, she met his gaze unafraid and unaffected. 

“Because I see through your goddamn bullshit,” she said, narrowing her eyes on him. “You’ve done this to me before, Tom. Remember? After the first time you and I slept together.” She shook her head, running a hand through her hair as she tried to calm herself down. “I thought we were finally past this. I won’t fall for it-- tell me what actually happened.”

His silence bothered her more than any words ever could. 

“You really have nothing to say to me?” she asked incredulously. “You’re just going to sit there in silence like a  _ coward _ ?”

He rolled his eyes, returning his attention to the book in his hands. “I’m busy.”

She balled her fists, her nails digging into her skin as she watched him deliberately ignore her. Her eyes focused on the book in his hands, unbridled power coursing through her in the form of anger. 

The book turned to ashes in his grasp. 

“You’re not busy anymore,” she said, meeting his annoyed stare with one of indifference. Slowly, she saw him rise from his seat, meeting her in the middle of the room as she kept speaking. “I wanted so badly for you to prove me wrong, you know. I wanted you to be better than what everyone said that you were. But I cannot keep defending you if you just keep pushing me away.”

“Maybe that’s the problem, Avalon,” he snarled. “I am not some project that needs fixing. You think that I am better than I am, but I am not!” She couldn’t tell if it was anger or pain that she sensed in his eyes-- perhaps it was both. “The sooner you realize that I will never be who you want me to be, the sooner you will be able to move on.”

“I have seen the person that you are capable of being-- both the good and bad. And I am willing to keep fighting for the good, but you need to stop with this constant back and forth.”

And that was the truth. Perhaps it was foolish, but at that moment, she didn’t care. She just wanted to hear him say something--anything-- that would let her cling to the hope that there was something within him that was still worth saving. 

He shook his head, frustration growing within him. “If you knew the person that I truly am, you would not be standing here in front of me,” he said, partially to her yet mostly to himself. 

She laughed in disbelief. “I know  _ exactly _ who you are, Tom! And I am not afraid of you!” 

“You should be,” he shot back. 

“What exactly am I supposed to be afraid of? The number of people you have killed? Our hands bear the same blood, don’t you get that?!” she shouted, grabbing his wrist and pulling it toward her outstretched hand. 

Still, he yanked his hand away. “You and I are nothing alike.”

“Stop putting me on a bloody pedestal-- I am not the perfect person you think I am, either! You have no idea the things that I have done to be standing here right now…” she said, thinking of the way her love for him was the ultimate form of betrayal to those she cared for. “... but those are choices that I have made and I will deal with the consequences.”

“Not all of us have the privilege to choose,” he said, growing defensive. 

“You have a choice. You always have had a choice,” she said. “You’re just making the wrong one.”

He bit the inside of his cheek as he shifted his gaze to the floor, no longer wanting to meet her disappointed eyes. “You should go.”

He wasn’t asking, and she knew that. And, for a moment, she debated if she should keep arguing. But, she was tired. Tired of fighting, tired of being let down, and tired of getting hurt. So, she just took in a deep breath before glancing down at her hands and taking off the bracelet he had given her, tossing it to the floor by his feet. “Goodbye, Tom.”

And without another word, she turned around and left. 

As her feet carried her down the hallway, she felt tears threaten to spill from her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Instead, she marched down into the common room and burst out the exit, immediately colliding with a body outside the door.

“Woah, woah, woah,” said Orion, steadying her as she nearly fell atop him. “What are you doing here?” he asked, but the look on her face answered his own question. 

“I’m done, Orion,” she said, wiping at her eyes furiously. “I’m done.”

“What are you talking about? Did you speak to him?”

She nodded, avoiding his worried gaze. “I can’t change someone who doesn’t want to be changed. Zelda was right-- I’m done.”

She pulled out of his grasp and began making her way down the hallway. “Where are you going?” he called after her. 

“For a walk by the edge of the lake,” she grumbled, not bothering to look over her shoulder. “Need some bloody fresh air.”

Orion felt anger coursing through his veins as he watched her walk away, her hands trembling as she left. It had been quite some time since he had seen her fingers tremble that way-- he had just started to think that she was getting better.

_ That fucking bastard... _

Next thing he knew, he was shoving the door to Riddle’s room open. 

Tom was holding the Avalon’s bracelet when Orion burst in, but he quickly set it down the moment he saw the blonde. The Prefect seemed rather surprised to see Orion there, but even more caught off guard when he saw the look of pure fury on his face. 

“You’re a bloody fucking idiot, you know that right?” Orion snarled, storming right up to Tom, the two of them glaring at each other eye-to-eye. 

“Don’t you dare speak to me that way,” Tom shot back, clenching his fists. He was not in the mood to be lectured by anyone, let alone Avery.

“I am the only fucking person who will speak to you this way!” Orion shouted, shoving Tom violently in the chest and watching as he stumbled back, a look of shock on Riddle’s face. “The only one in your miserable life that doesn’t want anything from you, nor is afraid of you! So I will speak to you how you need to be spoken to right now.”

Tom had never seen Avery look quite so enraged. His blue eyes had darkened like a storm, unrelenting anger meeting Tom’s gaze. “Stay out of my business, Avery,” he warned him. 

“It is my business now, too, Riddle,” he spat. “Because I care for Avalon and I am partially to blame for her giving you a chance to begin with. And you are making me regret ever encouraging her to do so.” 

“If you care for her so much, then why don’t you go pursue her yourself? Evidently, you two are happy enough on your own,” he snarled. 

Orion laughed, shaking his head as he stared at Tom in disbelief. “Merlin, you’re an absolute fucking  _ moron,  _ aren’t you?” Tom was stunned into silence at Avery’s outburst, but his next words shocked him even more. “I have a bloody girlfriend, you twat!”

Tom paused for a moment before his eyes widened a bit. “Excuse me?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be the smart one out of us lot?” Orion asked. “I have had a girlfriend for nearly a year now. And Avalon has known about her this whole time.”

“Why have you kept her a secret, then?” 

“Because look at what fucking happens when people become involved with us!” he exclaimed. “Everyone that we love gets hurt when they come within ten bloody feet of you! Can you blame me for keeping her as far away from all of you as possible? I’m trying to protect her-- that’s what you do when you love someone.”

“That is precisely what I am trying to do,” Tom snarled, taking a step toward Avery, but neither one of them backed down. 

“Well you’re doing a bloody awful job at it,” Orion shot back. “You have no idea how much that girl cares for you. Despite all your flaws-- Merlin knows you have plenty-- she still manages to hold out hope for you. And someone like that--who puts so much faith in you no matter how many times you give her reason not to-- is not someone that you come across every day.” He took in a deep breath, glaring at Tom as he continued. “Losing her will be the greatest mistake of your bloody life.”

Orion kept Tom’s stare until Riddle finally looked away, taking a step back as he sat down on the edge of his bed and looked off toward his bedside table, the ring Avalon had given him perched atop it. A few moments of silence passed, neither boy speaking as they each tried to gather their thoughts. Finally, Orion sighed and walked toward the door, opening it up and starting to walk out. Before he left, he turned back to Tom and said, “She’s going for a walk by the lake. Don’t make me regret telling you that.”

Tom watched the door close behind Avery, leaving him alone with nothing but his thoughts. He couldn’t take his eyes off the damn ring, it’s presence taunting him with every passing second. Avery’s words echoed in his head. He couldn’t take it anymore. 

It was growing harder and harder to tell if he was making the right choice, but it didn’t matter anymore. He knew what he had to do. 

So, he got up and headed toward the Lake. 

\------

Avalon walked along the edge of the Great Lake, her mind racing with a million thoughts-- few of them pleasant. She felt a harrowing sense of dread within her as she trudged her feet forward, allowing them to carry her wherever they wished.

She was a fool. A bloody fool. 

A fool who had allowed herself to fall in love with someone she knew was dangerous-- someone she knew was filled with darkness. A fool who had been naive enough to have believed that anyone could be saved, even the most corrupted of all souls. A fool who had made her own job so much more difficult by loving the one person that she now knew she was destined to kill. 

The one person who she had to kill if she wanted to save her friends. 

Because she was a fool. But, she would not be a traitor. 

Even if that meant betraying her own heart. 

The sound of footsteps in the distance shook her out of her own mind. She glanced into the Forbidden Forest, trying to see where the noise had come from, but saw nothing amid its darkness. Slowly, she took a few cautious steps toward the edge of the Forest, peering in curiously as silence washed over the area once more. 

Just as she was about to turn back toward the Lake, she saw a flash of bright red sparks burst through the canopy of the trees, shooting up toward the sky. 

_ A distress signal.  _

She narrowed her eyes at the sparks before hastily looking around, trying to see if anyone else was around, but was only greeted by her own solitude. She knew she couldn’t abandon another wizard in need, not if they were in danger. So, slowly, she drew her wand out and began venturing into the Forest, following the sparks to see who had summoned help. 

An odd sense of unease washed over her the deeper she wandered into the dark expanse of towering trees, their looming shadows casting an eerie gloom over the area. The further she ventured, the darker it grew. The trees began to blend together overhead, forming a myriad of intertwined branches that blocked any semblance of the sun from reaching the ground. Soon enough, it was near impossible to even see which direction she had come from. 

The silence was deafening-- the sound of her footsteps and beating heart the only noise for what seemed like miles. Her fingers reached out to tap the stone on her bracelet-- desperate to hear something that would fill the quiet-- only to remember that she had thrown it at Tom’s feet. 

Her heart sank back into her stomach, but she tried not to focus on it as she kept walking, growing closer and closer to where the sparks had been cast. 

She heard a twig snap not too far away and quickly spun around, pointing her wand in the direction of the sound. But, still, she saw nothing as she scanned the area, growing more anxious with every passing second. 

When she finally heard him, she felt her blood run cold. 

“Hello, dove,” smiled Tom, walking out from the shadows behind the trees, his eyes flashing crimson as he strode toward her. 


	47. Chapter 47

Avalon whipped around, coming face to face with Tom as he stalked toward her. She narrowed her eyes on him, her mind racing as he came closer and closer. When she finally met his coffee gaze, something seemed amiss, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. 

“What are you doing here?” she asked, trying to follow his footsteps in the snow to see where he had come from, but the darkness covered both of their tracks. 

“You were right,” he said, slowly closing the gap between them. She began to back away from him, a feeling of unease washing over her as he spoke, but her movements were halted when she felt her back press against the trunk of a nearby tree. “We should talk.”

“Did you see those red sparks?” she asked hastily, glancing around.

He didn’t answer her, only took another step forward, raising his hand and brushing it across her cheek. His touch sent a chill down her spine-- it was devoid of any warmth. As if he were a ghost of a person. A shell.

“We can talk later. We have to go, someone could be in danger,” she grumbled, pulling away and shoving past him, too preoccupied with finding the wizard in distress to worry about Tom. 

But, as she tried to walk by him, she felt him grasp her wrist and harshly yank her back. She let out a slight yelp, his fingers digging remorselessly into her skin. When her eyes met his, something about them seemed off. His eyes… She had seen those eyes before. 

A sinister smirk found its way onto his lips, his eyes flashing crimson.

Those eyes… there was no hint or trace of the Tom she knew in those eyes. They were empty… unloving… cold… 

They belonged to Voldemort. 

She felt her heart drop. Her mind flooded with a million terrible thoughts, but only one thing was clear: she was in danger. 

Her grip on her wand tightened as she tried aiming it at him. She was quick… 

But, he was faster. 

She didn’t even hear him cast the spell. All she felt was the harsh crash of her head against the tree behind her as she was blasted into its hard trunk. A sickening crunch tore through her body as she felt her ribs snap at the impact, the sharp pain forcing out a harrowing scream. It grew hard to breathe, every single gasp for air feeling insufficient. Her legs gave way beneath her, her body crashing down onto the ground with a pained whimper. The cold, wet snow sent a chill through her, but it was nothing compared to the numbness that had taken over her mind. The force of the collision nearly knocked her out-- her vision swam with stars and a deafening ringing overtook her ears. 

Her wand had flown out of her hands, but as she forced her eyes open, she couldn’t even make out where it had fallen. Everything was blurry, spinning, hazy.

Every inch of her body felt the impact of the blow. And every piece of her soul felt the sting of Tom’s betrayal. 

Still, she held her hand out, trying to summon her wand back into her palm. But, the world was spinning far too much before her eyes and she couldn’t focus her energy. Her outstretched fingers remained empty. 

A bright red flash raced toward her, she couldn’t even tell from what direction. She wanted to duck away, though moving proved to be impossible-- all she could do was brace herself as the spell hit her square in the chest, stunning her into paralysis. 

She heard his footsteps nearing as he walked up to her and knelt before her, lifting her chin with his wand to be forced to look up at him… forced to look heartbreak in the eyes as it twisted the final dagger through her chest. 

Slowly, her vision began to clear as his blurry figure came to fruition. But, seeing him there, a devilish smile written on his lips… she felt her entire reality shattering before her eyes. 

“You pathetic girl,” he said, pulling back his wand and watching as her head slumped forward. “What a shame you let your weak heart cloud your judgement… look where it has gotten you now.”

She opened her mouth several times to try and speak, but her voice failed her time and time again. Hot tears were already pouring down her cheeks-- partially from the feeling of betrayal, partially from the agonizing pain raking through her body. When she finally mustered up the strength to speak, her words were so frail that he barely heard her croak out, “Wh-why… are you… d-doing this?”

He let out a chilling laugh as he reached forward, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Why do you look so surprised?” he said, sending a feeling of dread through her. “You said you knew exactly who I am. This is what I do, Avalon.” He stood up, looming over her. “So tell me… are you scared of me now?”

Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t speak-- her chest felt as though it were collapsing into itself. So, all she could do was look up at him, tears partially clouding her vision. 

He waited for an answer that never came before shaking his head, disappointed. “You never learn,” he said, pointing his wand at her.  _ “Crucio _ .”

The pain tore through her in a terrorizing wave. She crumpled flat onto the ground, her body convulsing violently as he kept his wand aimed at her, smiling at her torture. 

Avalon was no stranger to the effects of the Cruciatus Curse, but somehow, it felt worse knowing Tom was responsible. She screamed louder than she had ever screamed in her life, the shriek ripping her apart from the inside. Her bones felt as though they were each being ground to pieces, her head threatened to explode from the pain, and her mind begged for the sweet relief of death to end the misery. 

He lowered his wand, but the agony lingered-- unrelenting and unforgiving as she let out shallow, choked sobs. The effects of the stun had worn off, but it didn’t matter. She was too weak to move. 

There wasn’t a single part of her that didn’t feel as though it were being scorched to ashes-- hot pain searing through her veins and threatening to burn her alive. He watched her on the ground, tears pouring out of her eyes but no sound coming out of her mouth as her cries were silenced by the feeling of her chest collapsing atop itself. 

“Should I continue?” he asked, circling around her like a starved vulture. “Keep going until you’ve lost your mind just like your mudblood friend?”

The mention of Hermione made Avalon want to get up and tear his throat out for daring to speak of her brave friend-- but she couldn’t. She couldn’t do anything. She couldn’t fight back, she couldn’t run away, she couldn’t even beg him to stop. 

She was going to die alone in that forest, and it would all be for nothing. 

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I could. But, why would I do that when I know there are things that you fear more?” 

Her bottom lip began to tremble as she saw him conjure something into his hand. As it became clear to her what he was holding, her eyes widened. “N-no…” she muttered out, clawing at the ground in a desperate attempt to try and escape. But, her movements were too weak to save her. 

He easily climbed atop her, putting his knees on either of her wrists and quelling her horrified thrashing as he pinned her down onto the snowy ground. Her screams turned to cries when he lifted the conjured blade to rest beneath her neck. 

She would recognize that knife anywhere-- it was the same one that the Death Eater had used to carve her scars into her flesh.

He leaned down, hissing into her ear as he pressed the knife to her skin, the cool sting making her shut her eyes as she whimpered in fear. “Did you ever think you’d be at the mercy of this blade again?”

Her body thrashed against him, each movement sending searing agony through her soul as her shattered ribs pierced through her muscle. She tried to beg him to stop, but her words failed her. All she could manage to do was let out pained cries as she felt the blade run down her neck, slowly making its way to her collar before it ripped through the fabric of her sweater and tore down her sleeve, exposing her scarred skin beneath.  “How does it feel...” he said, the knife dragging along the outline of one of her scars. “... knowing that you have failed?” 

He applied more and more pressure until she felt the blade finally pierce her skin, reopening her old wounds as another soul-crushing scream tore through her burning throat. Memories of that horrific night came back to life as she felt the familiar pain of the metal tearing open all the scars that she had tried so hard to never think about again. 

“How does it feel…” he snarled, tearing into her again. “... knowing that all of your pain is inevitable?” He dragged the blade along her skin, tracing each and every one of her old wounds, reopening her most painful scars and darkest memories. “Knowing that no matter what you do, not a thing will change?” He pressed the knife deeper into her skin, her scream so ear-splitting that her own voice broke. “Tell me, Avalon, do you still think I can be saved?” he asked, grinning as he tore open scar after scar after scar. “Do you wish that you had killed me sooner?” 

Her vision was going hazy again, her mind finally giving in to the temptation to give up. Everything was a muddled blur swimming before her bloodshot eyes. 

Never before in her life had she wished she were dead, until that very moment. 

“You haven’t changed anything. You failed, dove,” he sneered, lifting the knife from her skin and watching as crimson dripped off its blade and onto the white snow. “This will happen again and again, no matter what you do. History will repeat itself, and I will always win.”

_ How... _

“How stupid could you be...” he said, getting off her as he cleaned the blood from the knife with his sleeve. “... to still give your heart to me, knowing what I’ve done to you… to your  _ friends _ .”

_ How does he know… _

He grabbed her by the shoulder, violently flipping her over onto her stomach. She felt her broken bones crushing beneath her as she crumpled onto the snow, her fresh cuts oozing scarlet all along the untainted snowy canvas around her. 

“What would your friends think of you now?” he asked, the cold metal of the blade finding its way to her back. He tore through the fabric, exposing her skin to the cold winter air. Her entire body was shuddering. “You have finally earned that scar on your back.”

And, without even a bit of remorse, he began to re-carve the word back into her skin. 

Letter by letter. 

  1. R. A. I. T. O. R. 



\--------

Tom hastily made his way toward the Lake, his eyes scanning the area for Avalon. 

He replayed Avery’s words over in his head. 

_ ‘Losing her will be the greatest mistake of your bloody life.’ _

Tom didn’t know how he was going to apologize, nor did he know if she would ever take him back. All he knew was that he needed her. He needed her so badly that the thought of having lost her made him want to tear the whole world apart, brick by fucking brick. 

He was being selfish. That much he knew. He was dragging her along with him down a path that he knew would be filled with unimaginable danger-- but he didn’t care. Because he would protect her from all of it, himself, if he had to. As long as she was by his side, he would never let anything hurt her. 

She was nowhere to be seen, though. He stopped for a moment, wondering if she had gone back to the castle. His eyes trailed to the ground, noticing several paths of footsteps, each of them leading in different directions. 

Most of them were too large to belong to her, but one seemed to fit her size. His eyes followed their path, but they led straight into the Forbidden Forest. He squinted, trying to see further into the dark forest, but it was hard to see anything past the entrance. 

It was at that moment that he heard it. 

It was faint, clearly far off in the distance, but it was her. 

And she was screaming. 

His eyes widened as he bolted into the Forest, running as fast as he could to get to Avalon. He kept his stare glued to her footsteps, which, thankfully, were a clear map to her. 

The further he ventured, the louder her screams grew. And they weren’t just normal screams… they were the most horrific glimpses of torment that he had ever had to hear. It was the kind of sound that changed you forever once you heard it-- the kind of reminder that the world is ridden with unspeakable terrors that break even the strongest people. 

They grew louder and louder and louder. 

And he ran faster and faster and faster. 

The cries became so deafening that he couldn’t even hear himself think over the sound of her agony. His heart felt as though it were about to burst right out of his chest, her pain tearing through him and marking his existence with the knowledge of her suffering. 

But, then, they just stopped. 

They just fucking stopped. 

He looked down at the footprints, picking up his pace until he was sprinting so fast that the trees seemed to blur beside him. Nothing mattered to him in that moment other than finding her. He needed her to be okay. 

She had to be okay.

But, when he finally saw her, he immediately felt sick to his stomach. 

There she was, clothes torn and tattered... eyes staring blankly ahead of her… body limp and motionless… scars open and bleeding... lying atop a blanket of blood-stained snow. 

And there  _ he _ was, crouched beside her. 

Tom stared at himself-- or what appeared to be himself-- knelt down next to Avalon’s body, knife in hand as he-- as  _ it _ \-- carved into her flesh. 

“Avalon!” Tom shouted, scrambling toward them. 

He could just barely see her head move, weakly looking in his direction a moment before her eyes closed. 

The version of him beside her stood up, turning around to face Tom. As soon as its eyes landed on him, it morphed, changing into something else entirely before his eyes. 

The boggart took the form of Tom’s greatest fear. 

It turned into Avalon, still wearing her red dress from the Yule Ball. But, as she stumbled toward him, he noticed the dagger plunged deep into her heart. She looked at him with pure betrayal in her eyes as she choked out, “Y-you…you…d-did…th-this…” 

His eyes widened as she pulled the blade from her chest, blood spewing out the wound. He couldn’t tell where the red of the dress ended and where the red of her blood began. It all blended together in one indistinguishable mess. 

She coughed crimson out onto the snow, her eyes still glued to him as she lunged toward him, her eyes filled with accusation and heartache. “This…is…y-your…f-fault,” she said as she fell to the ground. 

He had to break himself out of his trance, pointing his wand at the creature and shouting, “ _ Riddikulus _ !”

He didn’t bother to watch as the boggart morphed again before disappearing. All he could do was bolt to Avalon’s side. He dropped to his knees beside her, his hands trembling as he took in the horrific sight before him. 

Her mutilated body was steadily spilling blood onto the snow, her lifeline seeping out of her as if it were sand in an hourglass. “Avalon, please, stay with me,” he begged, his voice shaking as he pointed his wand at her spine and tried to heal the oozing wounds. 

But, no matter what he did, the cuts wouldn’t close. 

It was at that moment that he realized the blade had been laced with magic so Dark that no healing spell in his arsenal could ease her pain. He just watched as her breathing became slower, fainter, weaker. The rise and fall of her shoulders was near imperceptible, her mortality quickly draining as her body grew more lifeless beneath him. 

“Avalon,” he cried out. No response. “Avalon!” 

Every ounce of his being wanted to hold her, hug her, pull her into his arms and never let go. But every inch of her body was covered in her own blood, deep lacerations strewn across every visible part of her flesh, making him scared to even touch her. 

“Please,” he choked, shuttering as he took hold of her hand and felt how horrifically cold her touch was. “Avalon… don’t leave me.”

Her body was so weak that he barely felt it, but she gave his hand a tiny squeeze. The slight movement was enough to invigorate a sense of purpose back into him. He couldn’t lose her. No, he couldn’t. He  _ wouldn’t _ .

“Stay strong for me,” he said, grabbing her wand from its place in the snow and shoving it into his pocket before taking off his coat and wrapping it around her as he scooped her off the ground and into his arms. His heartstrings tugged when he heard her let out a pained whimper as he held her, but he didn’t have a choice as he began carrying her toward safety. 

Every second that passed, she grew weaker and weaker. He could see the color draining from her cheeks, leaving her blank and pale like a porcelain doll. All he could do as he ran back to the castle was keep looking down at her, knowing that he was the reason she had been outside to begin with. “I’m sorry,” he cried. “I’m so sorry.”


	48. Chapter 48

Tom burst through the doors of the Hospital Wing. 

“HELP!” he shouted, immediately catching Madam Bardot’s attention.

The Healer ran over, her eyes widening when she saw Tom, covered in Avalon’s blood as he cradled her limp body in his arms. “Dear Heavens...” she said under her breath. “Put her on the bed, now!”

Tom scrambled toward the nearest bed, carefully laying Avalon’s pallid body down as Madam Bardot hastily pulled out her wand and began trying to heal the bleeding cuts. But, just like when Tom had tried, they resisted her healing. 

“What happened?!” the Healer asked, turning to Tom with a look of urgency. 

“A boggart,” he blurted out, his hands trembling. “She was attacked by a boggart and it… it cut her with a cursed blade. I… I couldn’t fix it and… I…” his words came out in a jumbled mess, his mind racing far too quickly for him to focus. “Can you save her?!”

Bardot turned to her assistant. “Go get Professor Dumbledore. Quickly!”

The younger Healer nodded, unable to pry her eyes off of Avalon’s near lifeless body for a moment before turning around and sprinting out the Hospital Wing. 

“Why him?” Tom asked, his eyes frantic. 

She ignored his question again, scanning her wand up and down Avalon’s wand, quickly casting a diagnostic spell as she assessed the injuries. “Merlin…” she breathed out.

“Why do you need him?!” Tom repeated, growing more impatient as the seconds ticked on. 

“On top of the wounds, the poor girl has a severe concussion, several broken ribs, and a punctured lung,” she answered calmly as she kept casting spell after spell on Avalon. “Her injuries are deeply poisoned with Dark Magic. I will need Professor Dumbledore’s help if we hope to save her.”

“ _ If _ you  _ hope _ to save her?!” he shouted, shaking his head in disbelief. “What do you mean if-”

“Mr. Riddle, I need you to go and wait outside.”

“I’m not leaving her.”

“If you wish for her to live, you must go and let me do my job!” she sharply instructed, pointing to the exit. He just stood there for a moment, reluctant to leave Avalon’s side, but Bardot shouted, “She is  _ dying _ and needs my attention. You must  _ leave _ !”

He felt his head spinning as he took one last look at Avalon before warily heading to the door. As he walked out, Bardot’s assistant sprinted back, Dumbledore at her side as the two of them raced into the Hospital Wing, making a bee-line for Avalon.

Tom watched as the three of them hunched over Avalon’s colorless body, erupting in hushed and frantic whispers. He began gravitating back inside, desperate to stay close to her, but Bardot flicked her wand at the door, shutting it in his face. 

He tried to push the door open, letting out an angry shout as he pounded his fist against the charmed door, realizing Bardot had barred anyone from entering the room. When he slammed his hand against the wood, he felt his heart sink into his stomach at the sight of his own hands. 

They were stained red with Avalon’s blood. 

He looked down at his body, a feeling of nausea overtaking him as he saw that he was drenched in crimson from head to toe. 

_ ‘If we hope to save her.’ _

Tom felt as though he were going to throw up. He could not lose her. No, he couldn’t. He couldn’t even think about it. As he paced back and forth, trying to quell his nerves, all he could do was think about her lifeless body. 

She had been completely motionless. By the time they had gotten to the castle, he couldn’t even see her breathing anymore. A part of him had worried he was too late, but when he saw her face turn into a pained grimace, he at least knew that she was still alive. 

For now. 

_ Fuck _ .

He heard footsteps behind him and whipped around, coming face to face with two Fourth Years. Their eyes widened when they saw him, standing there covered in blood. “Go fetch Orion Avery and Zelda Shacklebolt!” he yelled at them. They stared at him, startled and scared, for a moment before he shouted angrily, “ **_Now_ ** !”

They scrambled off, running to find Zelda and Orion as Tom slumped against the door, his breathing short and shallow as he stared blankly ahead of him. 

She had to be okay. 

She had to. 

Because if she wasn’t, he would never forgive himself. 

It was his fault. His fault that she was in the Forest. His fault that she was on that hospital bed. His fault that that boggart was able to hurt her the way it did. 

It was his fault that her biggest fear was him. 

She was afraid of him. 

He wanted to scream. He wanted to break down the door and go be beside her. He wanted to help them. He wanted to do anything that would allow him to be of any use. 

Anything was better than sitting out there. 

But, for the time being, that’s all he could do. So, he just stared blankly ahead, his entire body shaking as he waited outside in horrible anticipation. 

Tom didn’t know how much time had passed when he finally heard two pairs of footsteps running toward him, but he slowly lifted his eyes and met the mortified gazes of Shacklebolt and Avery. 

“What the bloody hell is going on?!” Orion shouted, scrambling toward Tom. His eyes widened in horror when he took in the sight before him. 

“Where is Avalon?!” Zelda asked, unable to pry her eyes off of Tom’s bloody hands. His silence scared her. “What the fuck have you done?!”

When he opened his mouth to speak, the sound of his own broken voice sounded foreign to even him. “She… she was attacked. By a boggart.”

“How bad is it?” Orion asked, his voice shaking as he tried shoving the door open, only to realize it was shut from within. He angrily slammed his body against the entrance, pushing against it with all his might to no avail. “Fuck!”

Zelda still hadn’t pried her eyes off Tom. “Is she going to make it?” she asked, her words nothing more than a pained whisper. 

He didn’t answer her. He just stared before him, words failing as the image of her mutilated body haunted his mind. 

The trio sat outside the Hospital Wing for hours. Time seemed to tick by slower than ever before, every second feeling like a lifetime as they waited and waited for any semblance of hope. Nobody went in or out of the door, meaning that Bardot and Dumbledore were still busy working on saving Avalon. On one hand, it was relieving to know that she was still alive. On the other, knowing that they were still trying after hours of work… was less than promising. 

Moonlight trickled into the corridor, but flickering lanterns lit up the small corner where Tom, Zelda, and Orion were waiting. Their bodies had grown numb from sitting on the cold, stone ground, but none of them could even begin to focus on that. Their minds were far too busy drowning in their fears. 

Orion would stand up every once in a while and pace in circles, his face contorted with a mixture of fear and impatience. Zelda rocked back and forth, biting her fingernails as her eyes darted between Tom and Orion, wishing either of them would speak. She kept staring at Tom, the sight of Avalon’s blood strewn across him driving her mad. After some time, she couldn’t take it anymore and flicked her wand toward him, muttering a cleaning spell and sighing as the blood finally cleared from his body. 

He didn’t react, though. Just stared. All he could do was stare. 

None of them realized how much time had truly passed until the sun began to peek in through the windows, lighting up the corridor once more. They started to hear chattering flooding the castle as students began to wake up and head to the Great Hall for breakfast, but none of them bore any hint of an appetite. 

Exhaustion took a backseat to anxiety, adrenaline keeping them wide awake despite their lack of sleep. 

When the door finally opened, they quickly scrambled to their feet and watched with bated breath as Dumbledore quietly strode out. He had an unreadable expression on his face as he looked between the three of them. 

“How is she?” Orion finally said, asking what all of them needed to know. 

The Transfiguration professor sighed, his usual smile devoid from his face as he turned to Tom and said, “You found her just in time. Had you not gotten there when you did, she wouldn’t be alive right now.”

“So she’s alive?” Zelda pressed. 

He nodded, stepping aside and clearing the path to the door. “You may go see her if you wish.”

They wasted no time, rushing into the Hospital Wing and straight to the bed where Avalon was resting. Nobody else was there aside from her, Madam Bardot, and the Healer’s assistant. The room was eerily silent as they surrounded her bed, staring at her sleeping figure.

Tom felt a pang rip through his chest as he was forced to look at her heavily bandaged body. Small droplets of blood were seeping through a few of the wraps, though it appeared most of the cuts were at least sealed, for the most part. Her skin was still dull, though there was a hint of color returning to her cheeks as soft breaths escaped from her slightly parted lips. 

Just knowing she was alive, they all felt a weight lift off their shoulders. 

Madam Bardot walked over, a look of pure exhaustion on the witch’s face. “She’s a strong one,” said the Healer. “I feared we would lose her, but she held on.”

“Is she going to be alright?” Zelda asked urgently. 

“We were able to fix the broken bones and her punctured lung. Still, it will be quite some time before she is able to recover from those cuts, the poor thing. She will remain under my watch for several days, and even then, we will have to monitor her concussion,” she said, letting out an exhausted sigh. “Quite a vicious boggart attack-- I’ve never seen one quite so bad.”

Tom felt his heart tear to shreds. The thing that did this to her-- her greatest fear-- was him. He was responsible. For all of it. 

This was his fault. 

He didn’t understand. She had never seemed to have been afraid of him before-- she had even said that she wasn’t. It didn’t make sense to him, but it was breaking him to pieces to think about. He had thought that she was one of the few people who was not scared of him… to know he had been wrong was a brutal truth to come to terms with.

“The three of you can sit by her bed, but it may be hours before she wakes up,” Bardot warned them. 

But, that didn’t matter. They all quickly took seats around Avalon: Zelda plopping onto the floor and leaning against the bed, Orion on a nearby chair, and Tom on the edge of her bed, taking her hand into his own and rubbing soft circles into her skin as they waited. 

\------

Avalon heard hushed whispers all around her. Several voices were speaking, though she couldn’t make out any words. It sounded as though her head was underwater. Sounds were echoing, but muted-- prominent, but indistinguishable. 

She felt something resting on her hand, but she couldn’t quite tell what it was. All she knew is that it was warm. 

As she tried to open her eyes, she shifted a bit, a pained grimace painting over her features. Everything burned with the lasting sting of the blade. It was a pain that she had never, in a million years, thought that she would ever have to relive. But, of course, things rarely happened as she expected them to. 

The whispering came to an immediate halt as her eyes fluttered open. She had to squint as her vision adjusted to the light around her. Everything was blurry for a few moments. She tried to make sense of the world around her, but things were jumbled, she was disoriented, and her head was still spinning. 

The silence. 

The silence was fucking deafening. 

It took several moments for her eyes to focus on the world around her. She saw Orion first, then Zelda… 

Then him. 

Her eyes darted down to her hand, noticing how he was holding onto it. 

And she immediately drew her hand away. 

It felt like the world was closing in on her as she stared at him, her eyes wide and frantic. “Y-you…” She tried to sit up, but a tortured whimper left her lips at the attempted movement. “You…”

Tom stood up, backing away from the bed as she stared at him as if he were a monster. It felt as though the ground beneath him was crumbling away, leaving him falling into a dark abyss. His eyes became plagued with a mixture of guilt and anguish as he watched her squirm at the sight of him. He was aware of Avery and Shacklebolt’s confused stares burning into the back of his head, but all he could focus on was the look of pure betrayal in her eyes as they brimmed with tears. 

“No,” she begged, shaking her weak voice breaking as she was overridden with horror. “N-no!” 

“You need to go,” Zelda said, getting to her feet and standing between Tom and the hyperventilating Avalon. He didn’t even have the energy to argue as he watched Avery rush to her side, taking the seat where Tom had been. The blonde took ahold of Avalon’s hand, trying to calm her down as she kept staring at Tom, tears spilling down her cheeks. He couldn’t move his feet, it felt like he was glued to the ground, incapable of prying his eyes from Avalon. Zelda grabbed him by the arm, forcefully yanking him out the door and shutting it behind them, isolating them in the hallway outside. “I’m going to ask you one more time, Riddle. What the bloody hell did you do?!”

He looked at her with so much heartbreak in his eyes that even she was taken aback. “I… it was me,” he said, shaking his head. “Her boggart was me.”

A look of realization flashed across her face as she averted her gaze and looked at the floor, trying to take in what he had just admitted. A few seconds of silence passed between them when she finally said, “You can’t come in until she’s more stable. I’m sorry… but she-”

“I know,” he agreed, his voice more dejected than she had ever thought possible. Hearing him so broken made her feel for him. She wasn’t exactly his biggest fan, though seeing how much pain had been in his eyes when Avalon reacted to him that way… she could tell he cared for her deeply. And she couldn’t imagine the pain he felt knowing that Avalon was afraid of him. 

“Go to your room and get some rest,” she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “She’s going to be here for quite some time.”

He ignored her request, instead saying, “Just come out here and update me on how she’s doing.” 

Her eyes softened as she began to speak again. “Tom, you need to get-”

“Please,” he said desperately, cutting her off. 

She sighed, nodding. “I’ll keep you updated,” she said before turning around and walking back into the Hospital Wing. 

When she made it back inside, she saw Orion gently holding Avalon’s hand. Her roommate’s breathing had finally calmed back down again now that Riddle’s absence had become apparent. 

Avalon watched as Zelda neared the bed, looking between her roommate and Orion with wild eyes. “How did I get here?” she asked. 

“Tom found and brought you back to the castle,” Zelda answered.

“No,” she blurted out, her eyes becoming frantic once more. “This was him... h-he did this.”

Orion’s eyes widened. “What do you-”

“It was a boggart, love,” Zelda said, cutting Orion off. The blonde looked between Zelda and Avalon before a look of realization, then a pang of sadness crossed his features. “Tom only found you and brought you back.”

Avalon’s head was swimming-- the memory of the attack was hazy and unclear, but she began to piece together small hints of memories at the mention of the boggart. She remembered seeing another Tom running toward her, screaming her name… the way the Tom that had hurt her had ice-cold hands… the way it had known details that the real Tom could never know of…

It made sense, but it did not make it any easier for her to calm herself down. 

She thought about her Third Year, when Lupin had brought a boggart into their class. Hers had been a dragon. Ron’s a spider. Hermione’s a failing grade. Harry’s a dementor.

How naive they had been to think that those were their greatest fears. 

So many thoughts were racing through her brain that a mind-splitting headache washed over her. Orion and Zelda watched as a pained grimace settled onto her face, her eyes darting in and out of consciousness as they tried to ask how she was. Her answers were choppy and her focus was short-lived, but they did their best to keep her awake and alert. 

They sat beside her for hours. Zelda went out to see Tom a few times, telling him that Avalon was still stable and doing as well as could be expected. But, for the most part, time was spent filling the silence with Orion and Zelda’s conversation. Avalon rarely spoke and when she did, she was only able to get out a few words before her eyes would trail off and her focus would be shattered once more. The effects of her lingering head trauma were wildly evident. When the sun finally began to set, she fell into a deep sleep that was induced by a mixture of her own exhaustion and some pain medication that Madam Bardot gave her. The Healer finally told Zelda and Orion that only one visitor would be allowed to stay by Avalon’s side overnight. They decided it would be better for Zelda to stay, so Orion thanked Madam Bardot for all her hard work before he reluctantly walked to the door and stepped into the hallway. 

The sight of Tom still sitting outside the Hospital Wing greeted him. 

“She went to bed,” Orion said, standing above Tom. 

He had never seen Riddle look quite so disheveled. His hair was a mess, clearly having been tugged at all throughout the day. Deep, dark circles plagued the area beneath his bloodshot eyes while he sat, his clothes wrinkled from being crouched on the ground all day. 

He looked like a mess. A complete and utter wreck. Orion had never thought he would see the day it happened, but, here he was…

Tom Riddle had lost control. 

“You should get some rest,” Orion said to Tom. “There’s only one overnight visitor allowed, so I’m done for the night, too. We can go to our rooms and get some sleep and come back in the morning.”

“I’m not leaving,” Tom said, his voice lacking its usual sharp tone. 

Orion bit the inside of his cheek for a moment as he thought. He knew it was pointless to argue with Riddle, so he just sighed and slumped down on the ground beside Tom. 

A few moments of silence passed between the two of them before Orion spoke again, his voice soft and quiet. “I heard what Avalon’s boggart was.”

He watched Tom tense up at the mention of it, a look of guilt painting across his face. “This is my fault,” he said under his breath. 

“None of us could have known that there would be a boggart there,” Orion said. “If you hadn’t gone and found her, she’d be dead right now.”

“And if I hadn’t pushed her away, she would never have been there to begin with,” Tom said, burying his head in his hands again. “This is all  _ my fault _ .”

“No, it’s not-”

“Yes, it bloody is,” Tom said, cutting Avery off. “Our fight was my fault. Her going out there was my fault. Even her boggart being so fucking violent was my fault. I mean, for fuck’s sake, Orion, I was her boggart!  _ I’m _ her biggest fear. It was  _ me _ ,” he said, his voice breaking as his eyes were washed with anguish. He shook his head, his next words barely more than a whisper. “You were right-- anyone around me gets hurt.”

“They only get hurt because you’re convincing yourself that you need to hurt them,” Orion protested, earning Tom’s wary gaze. “You care for her. Stop fighting against it--  _ that’s _ why she keeps getting hurt.”

Tom looked back at the floor, his body slouched forward. “She’s never going to forgive me.”

Orion shrugged. “You’d be surprised how much people are willing to forgive when they are in love.” Tom’s head whipped up at the word, a look of shock fading into something that almost seemed like hope. Orion began taking off his coat, clumping it up into a makeshift pillow and setting it on the floor. Tom watched the blonde as he sprawled out on the ground, resting his head on his coat. “Get some rest. You’re not going to win her back if you look like this, mate.”

Tom let out a light laugh, nodding as he leaned against the wall. He didn’t think he would be able to sleep, his mind was still spinning with far too many worries to grant him any semblance of peace. But, Orion dozed off rather quickly, his snoring intensifying Tom’s existing headache.

All Tom could do was try not to let his guilt get the best of him as he looked out at the night sky, knowing that Avalon was just beyond the door behind him. The thought of her in pain sent an ache through his own heart, and he knew that from that day forward, he would do everything in his power to never have her feel hurt again. 

No matter what he had to give up to ensure that. 

He couldn’t lose her. 


	49. Chapter 49

Tom didn’t know at what point he had eventually dozed off to sleep that night, but he woke up to the feeling of sunlight hitting his eyes. He glanced around, trying to remember where he was. The corridor outside the infirmary greeted him, Orion still passed out on the floor by him. 

The blond woke soon after Tom and immediately began complaining about being hungry. He had to physically drag Tom to get breakfast with him after Tom refused to leave the Hospital Wing, but Orion eventually convinced him that his hunger wouldn’t help Avalon recover any quicker. So, the pair went to the Great Hall and ate breakfast. 

Tom still lacked an appetite, so Orion tried to force him to eat a roll. Tom frowned when he felt the bread smush into the side of his face, turning around and glaring at a grinning Orion who didn’t quit pestering Tom until he finally gave in and ate. 

It actually made Tom laugh a bit to himself. He had been so upset at seeing Avalon and Orion eating together, Avery feeding her when she had been down. He had thought that it was an indication that the duo secretly had something between them-- seeing Orion do the same thing to him, he realized the blond was just overly affectionate.

They returned to the Hospital Wing shortly after, once again taking their position outside the door. About half an hour passed before Zelda walked out. She looked visibly exhausted and slumped against the wall, looking at the two of them before saying, “Orion, could you sit with her for a little? She just woke up and insists I go get breakfast.”

Orion nodded, springing onto his feet. “Of course.” He looked at Tom, offering a half-hearted smile before he went inside the infirmary once more. As the door was closing behind Orion, Tom caught a brief glance at Avalon. 

She was sitting up in her bed, looking toward the door. Her eyes met Tom’s for a moment and she didn’t greet him with any fear in her stare. That was enough to make him let out a sigh of relief. 

The door closed behind Orion and she watched as he made his way over, a smile on his face when he saw she was awake. “Good morning,” he greeted her. 

“Good morning,” she said, forcing a soft smile as he came over and sat on the side of her bed. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Better,” she said slowly, looking down at the fresh bandages on her body. Blood no longer seeped out, but it still hurt to move. “The wounds seem to have closed up, but it’s still quite painful. Can’t get rid of my headache and I can feel myself lose focus every now and then, but I can at least hold consciousness.” 

“It is progress,” he said, taking her hand and giving it a slight squeeze. “I reckon you’ll be out in no time.”

She laughed. “I don’t know about that, but hopefully it won’t be too long before I can be discharged.” Her words trailed off as she looked toward the door once more. “Did he stay the whole night?”

“He hasn’t left since he brought you here,” Orion sighed. “I had to drag him to breakfast this morning. I think it’s the first meal he’s had in a while… he’s not taking this too well.”

She looked down for a moment, trying not to think about the smile on Tom’s-- no, the boggart's-- face when it shoved her onto the ground… the sound of his-- no, it’s-- voice when it taunted her as it plunged the blade into her back. 

_ It wasn’t him _ , she had to remind herself. 

She knew it wasn’t him… but that didn’t make it much easier for her to move past those terrible memories plaguing her mind. Her head was swamped with a thousand thoughts, and she knew that she needed to sort through them one way or another. 

“Could I speak to him?” she asked, her own voice uncertain. 

Orion seemed surprised that she had asked, but he nodded, standing up. “I’ll go fetch him.”

He walked back out the door and for a few seconds she heard muted voices coming from outside before the entrance opened up and Tom cautiously walked in, his eyes meeting hers as he slowly began to make his way closer to her bed, giving her time to speak up if he was coming too close for her comfort. But, as he got to the edge of her bed, she still hadn’t protested.

Seeing him up close, she saw just how broken he looked. Worse than she had ever seen him before-- worse than he had been after any of their fights, worse than after they stayed up for days working on their project… he looked like a complete and utter mess. 

“How are you?” she asked. 

He raised his brows. “How am I? How are you? You’re the one in the Hospital.”

“I’m better than I was yesterday,” she said. She tried to shrug, but let out a soft wince, forgetting how much it still hurt to move around. 

A flash of worry found its way into his eyes when he saw her in pain. “I thought I was going to lose you.”

“How did you find me?” she questioned. “In the Forest, I mean.”

He took in a deep breath, looking down. “I wanted to apologize after our last… conversation,” he grumbled, hating himself for causing that stupid bloody fight in the first place. “Orion told me you were going for a walk by the Lake. When I got there, I heard you screaming.”

She bit the inside of her cheek, her head hurting again. “I don’t remember much… mainly just the pain. I remember what it did to me, but I can’t recall how I really got there. It’s all quite hazy.” A few moments passed, neither of them speaking. Finally, she said, “Thank you. For saving me.”

“Don’t say that,” he said, shaking his head. 

“Why?”

“Because this is my fault. All of it is. You wouldn’t have been in that Forest had I not driven you out there. That boggart wouldn’t have been as awful if I wasn’t…” his words trailed off, his voice threatening to break as he rubbed his face exasperatedly. 

“It’s not you I’m afraid of, you know,” she said. He looked up at her in confusion and she continued, “I’m afraid of being wrong about you.”

“Wrong about me?” 

She took in a deep breath, meeting his confused eyes. “I trust you, and I fear that you may not deserve it… this constant back and forth, I can’t keep up with it, Tom. I can’t have you telling me that you don’t want me anymore, and then something happens where you’re scared to lose me and then you care again. I can’t do this. It…” she paused for a moment, her head feeling as though it would burst from her splitting headache. “... hurts me.”

“Avalon,” he said, kneeling down beside her bed. “I… made an enormous mistake. I had thought that pushing you away would be better-- safer-- for you. And I was wrong. And for that I am so incredibly sorry,” he said, his words coming out in a rambling burst of guilt and anguish. “My judgement was clouded by my expectations of what I thought that I wanted out of my own future, but I realize now that a future without you isn’t one that I want. I’d give it all up if it meant having you by my side.”

“Your future?” she asked, narrowing her eyes on him. 

“I…” he paused, trying to calm his own nerves before he spoke. “My entire life, I had always envisioned myself going down a certain path. A path that nobody else had ever gone down before. And it felt like my destiny. Nothing could possibly come between me and that future… until you.” 

Hearing those words come out of his mouth almost felt surreal to her. She wanted so badly to believe him, but she was also not naive. “Tom… I just… can’t keep going forward like this. I’m tired of being hurt, I’m tired of fighting, and I’m tired of never knowing where I stand with you. It’s exhausting.”

“I know that I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” he said, slowly reaching out and taking her hand into his own, letting out a small sigh of relief when she didn’t pull away. “But, I will spend every second of every day trying to earn it.” When he felt her give his hand a soft squeeze, he leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to her knuckles. “I promise you that from this moment on, I will never hurt you again.”

“Please don’t make promises that you can’t keep, Tom.”

“I intend on keeping this one,” he said, rubbing circles into the back of her hand. His eyes lit up when she patted the space beside her on the bed and he slowly stood up, sitting next to her. He watched as she lifted her hand, a slight grimace on her face as she moved, and put her hand on his cheek, stroking his skin gently. His head turned as he kissed the inside of her palm before leaning into her touch and putting his own hand atop hers. “I’m sorry that it took me so long to realize, but I can’t lose you again. And, if you’ll have me, I want you to be mine and me yours.” 

A soft smile found its way onto her face. “Mine?”

“Yours,” he said. She held his eyes for a moment, noting how anxious he looked as he awaited her response, then nodded. Immediately, he looked as though a weight was lifted off his shoulders and he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss onto her lips.

She could feel his sincerity through the soft kiss, and it was reflected in his eyes when he eventually pulled back and met her gaze. He gently moved a strand of hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear before looking down at his hands and slowly taking off his golden ring, fiddling it around in his hold for a moment before taking her hand and slipping it onto her finger. The ring moulded to fit and he smiled. “In case any of those Quidditch boys need a reminder.”

She lightly laughed, rolling her eyes as she glanced down at the ring. The black stone in the center reflected the image of her smiling face before she glanced back at Tom. A sense of relief flooded over her as she looked at him… 

Never once had she thought that changing Tom Riddle would be an easy task. She knew that it would be a road filled with heartbreak, pain, and several missteps-- but, looking at him at that moment, she knew that all of it would be worth it. All of it  _ had _ been worth it. 

He was worth it. 

The door burst open and they both looked over to see Zelda stomping in, looking between the two of them. “Is he bothering you?”

“Not too much,” Avalon laughed, earning a roll of Tom’s eyes, though there was a subtle smirk on his lips. 

Orion followed in sheepishly after Zelda, his eyes widening when he saw the ring on Avalon’s finger. “Did we miss something? Leave you two alone for ten minutes and suddenly we come back to an engagement?”

“You’re a bloody idiot,” Avalon said, shaking her head. 

“Ah, she’s back,” the blond grinned. 

\------

“I’ll just wait outside,” Tom insisted, looking at Avalon as Madam Bardot began to push him out to the exit. Several hours had passed and the Healer insisted on kicking him, Orion, and Zelda out for the time being so she could attend to Avalon.

“Merlin, Tom, just go to your room for a bit. You still look like shit,” Avalon called out.

“Dear Heavens, Miss Hendrix,” Bardot exclaimed, making Avalon laugh. 

“We’ll see you soon!” said Zelda as she waved at her roommate. 

“You can’t get rid of us for too long,” Orion grinned, stepping out the door. 

Tom rolled his eyes as he was the last to be shoved out of the exit. “When you come back, could you bring me my bracelet?” Avalon asked. 

He nodded, opening his mouth to respond when the door was shut before them. Zelda turned to the two boys and smiled. “I’m going to go back to our room and get a little bit of rest. I presume I’ll see the two of you back here later,” she said, turning around and starting to walk away. But, she stopped herself and swung around, looking at only Tom. “And, Merlin, Riddle. Mess this up one more time and I swear I will make your life miserable.” 

“Noted,” he said, a slight look of amusement on his lips as she grinned and waved, walking off toward Ravenclaw Tower. The two boys began walking to the Slytherin dungeons, a comfortable silence between them as they navigated their way through the castle. 

Finally, Orion said, “You know, if you mess this up, you won’t just have Zelda to deal with.”

Tom chuckled. “You two have little faith in me.”

Orion looked down as they descended a flight of stairs, but his lips were turned into a slight smile. “She’s like a little sister to me. It’d be wrong of me to not give you a little hell for it.” He paused for a moment before adding, “Though, I am happy for you both. You two are a good match.”

“Thank you,” Tom said. “Had you not told me where she was, she wouldn’t be alive right now.”

Orion shrugged. “What are friends for?” 

Tom felt confident calling Orion a friend, now. 

Perhaps he was the only friend Tom had-- had ever had. All his life, he’d been surrounded by people who wanted something from him. They never truly cared for him, only cared about pleasing him in hopes of gaining his favor. Avery was different. He never expected anything in return. 

Tom was actually rather grateful for the blond. Especially now. 

They arrived at the entrance of the common room and Tom stated the password before they strode in. Tom nodded at Orion, leaving the blond behind and instead making his way toward his own dorm to clean himself up and change into new clothes, trying to regain a semblance of an improved appearance. After he was finished, he looked into a mirror, noticing the tired look of his eyes. He promised himself he’d rest when Avalon was discharged-- he was hopeful that would be soon. But, first, he grabbed her bracelet and shoved it into his pocket. 

He exited his door, heading back toward the Hospital Wing when he passed by Lestrange and Rosier’s room. His walking came to a halt as he glanced at the door, hearing the pair talking from within. 

Without a moment of hesitation, Tom walked back around and opened their door, entering and standing before them as their discussion came to an abrupt end, the two of them quickly standing up and looking at him. His face was painted with a frown when he looked at them and spoke, “I’m done.”

“What?” Lestrange asked, the two roommates glancing at each other in confusion. 

“I said I am  _ done _ . With both of you, with the plan, with all of it. I want nothing to do with either of you,” he snarled, his eyes burning into theirs. 

“You cannot be serious,” Rosier said, his voice laced with venom as he advanced toward Tom. “We have made it this far. Everything that we have worked so hard for is finally in our reach and you cannot lose sight of that now!”

“All this for a bloody girl?!” Xavier snarled. “What happened to love is weakness?!”

Tom met their gazes and lifted his hand toward them, clenching his fist as he wordlessly forced them to their knees before him. They let out pained gasps as the force of gravity suddenly felt too much for them to bear, their bodies crumpling in front of Tom. They tried to get back on their feet, but he only channeled more energy into the spell. They collapsed in front of him, just barely able to lift their heads to look up at him as he towered over them, pained gasps leaving their frowning mouths. “Do I look  _ weak _ to you?”

They couldn’t form words-- their bodies felt as though they were being crushed by the weight of the earth coming down upon them. The pair just looked at him with pure resentment in their hateful eyes. 

Xavier slammed his hand on the ground, trying to push himself off the floor. But, Tom only glared at him, watching as the overwhelming force overtook the boy’s body. He tried to fight it, but an agonizing scream left his lips when his wrist snapped, a sickening crunch meeting their ears as he fell to the ground, succumbing to the pressure on his body.

Tom looked down at the two of them, disgust in his eyes. “Do not bother me ever again,” he spat, turning around and striding out. 

As he walked out of their room, he couldn’t stop his racing thoughts. He had left every concept of what he had thought his life would be like behind in that room. Any hint, any idea, any guess about his future was just forgotten as he walked down the hallway. 

It was strange-- for as long as he could remember, he had always seen nothing but power and control in his future. He knew what he wanted to be-- who he was going to be-- and knew how to get there. 

But, now, he had no idea what he would become. All he knew is that he wanted it to be someone that could be good for Avalon. Someone that could make her happy, keep her safe, protect her heart, laugh beside her, hold her, be whatever it is that she could ever need.

Someone that was worthy of her. 

He made his way through the castle, his list of uncertainties only growing as he walked. But, he didn’t mind anymore. One way or another, he knew that he would make a future for himself. Even if it wasn’t the one that he had always envisioned, something made him believe that this path was one that he’d enjoy more. 

His feet carried him all the way back toward the infirmary, his footsteps quiet as he glided through the halls. Focus was still something he was lacking, too many thoughts still clouding his mind. But, as he turned the final corridor and caught a glance at the Hospital Wing entrance, his eyes widened when he saw the sight that greeted him. 

Avery stood there, leaning against the wall while he rested his chin atop Clara Bell’s head, both of them relaxed in one another’s arms as they waited outside the infirmary’s door. 

When he strode a bit closer, the couple caught sight of him and a look of panic instantly washed across both their features. Instantly, they broke apart, backing away from each other as quickly as they could.

Clara was holding a bouquet of white daisies, a small yellow ribbon tied around the flowers as she avoided Tom’s eyes, her cheeks turning a soft pink. Tom glanced between the two of them while Orion met his gaze with worry-filled eyes as he nervously awaited Tom to speak. 

_ It all made sense… _

“You two are a good match, as well,” he said to Avery, who let out a sigh of relief before reaching out and gently taking ahold of his girlfriend’s hand once more. “Clara, are you here to see Avalon as well?”

The doe-eyed girl nodded, looking between Orion and Tom cautiously. “As soon as Orion told me, I had to come see her.” 

He nodded, all of their attention turning to the door as Madam Bardot propped it open and ushered them inside. Clara walked ahead of the two boys, rushing to Avalon’s side and putting the flowers beside her table as she asked how her friend was doing. 

As the boys made their way over, though, Tom leaned over and whispered light-heartedly, “She’s too good for you.”

Orion let out a light laugh. “She and Avalon both settled, huh?”


	50. Chapter 50

Avalon exited the Greenhouse with Zelda and Clara, the three of them striding toward their next classes as they filled the air with light-hearted conversation and cheerful laughter. 

It had been five days since Avalon was discharged from the Hospital Wing, and classes had resumed at the start of the week. Despite Madam Bardot insisting she stay in bed and take it easy, Avalon had sprung right back into her daily routine. Her head no longer spun, her wounds had healed, and the pain that had plagued her entire body had subsided to nothingness. Thankfully, it appeared the Healer was quite good at her job. 

She was rarely alone during her extended stay at the Hospital-- Tom typically spent most of his time with her, only ever leaving to shower or grab food. He made sure to always bring her back her favorite things to eat, knowing that she wasn’t fond of the meals Madam Bardot was giving her. In his brief periods of absence, Zelda or Orion took his place and in addition, their other friends stopped by on several occasions, too. Clara frequented the infirmary every so often to check in, a bouquet of flowers in her hand every time she stopped by, and Axel and Rosalie came to see her, too, dropping off a gift basket with treats from Honeydukes. Even Demitri popped by, sneaking her a flask of firewhiskey which she gratefully downed before Madam Bardot noticed and snatched it away, kicking Mulciber out promptly after. 

But, despite her friends making sure to keep her company, being in that Hospital had started to drive Avalon mad. When she finally heard that she could leave, she sprung out of her bed so quickly that the Healer had to remind her to take it easy for the next few days-- which Avalon didn’t quite listen to. 

From the first day she had returned to her classes, Avalon noticed many of her peers would whisper as she walked by, their eyes focused on her as she made her way through the castle. It soon became obvious that word had spread about her boggart attack-- and with the news, came rumors of what her boggart had been: the most popular theory seemed to be that it was Grindlewald. Some thought that it was a werewolf. She even heard one rumor that it was a Professor Merrythought. 

So far, nobody had guessed that it was actually her boyfriend viciously carving into her back, but she wasn’t too surprised by that. 

“You’re positively brilliant. You know that, right?” Zelda said to Clara as the three girls walked through the caste. 

“It’s really not that impressive,” replied Clara humbly, a hint of a blush on her cheeks. 

“Not that impressive?” gaped Zelda. “You found out a way to charm seeds so that they will never wither and you’re choosing now to be modest? That is incredible.”

“It really is amazing, Clara,” Avalon said with a smile. “Imagine how lovely it would be to see a field of flowers in the wintertime. You truly  _ are _ brilliant.”

“I don’t understand how you managed to find time to come up with this with all the assignments we have... I mean, it’s only the first Friday of the new term and we’re already drowning in work,” Zelda grumbled, shaking her head as the three girls walked through the corridors. “Now that you’re dating Riddle, does that mean I can use him for answers to our assignments?”

“I’m sure he’d  _ love _ that,” Avalon chuckled, shaking her head. It still felt odd to hear others openly refer to her and Tom’s relationship. Alongside the boggart rumors, talk of the castle’s newest couple was rampant through the school gossip. 

“I always knew the two of you would find a way together,” Clara said, a soft smile on her lips as she clutched her books tightly against her chest. 

Avalon rolled her eyes, laughing. “You must have been the only one, then, because even I didn’t see it coming.”

Zelda turned to Clara and said, “What is it with her and Slytherins?”

Avalon caught Clara’s eyes, the two sharing a knowing glance before they both burst into laughter, earning a confused frown from the one of them who didn’t know Clara was dating a Slytherin, too.

With her next words already on the tip of her tongue, Avalon opened her mouth to speak, but the feeling of her fingers being laced with someone else’s from behind made her turn around abruptly. She was greeted by Tom’s smiling face as he pulled her away from her friends. 

“Speak of the devil,” Zelda said, laughing as Tom nodded toward her. “Stealing my roommate again, Riddle?”

“Consider it a favor. Enjoy the peace and quiet while she’s gone,” he offered, earning a whack on his arm from Avalon. “See you both around,” he said, giving them a short smile. 

“I was enjoying that conversation, you know,” Avalon said as he dragged her away from Zelda and Clara, pulling her into an empty corridor. 

He leaned against the wall, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her into him and kissing her. He smiled into her lips before she pulled away, looking up into his coffee eyes. “I’m sorry,” he grinned.

“Why did you pull me away?” she asked, trying to bite back her own happiness as he pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. 

“Do I need a reason?”

“No, but you usually have one regardless.”

He chuckled, putting a finger under her chin and tilting her head up before pressing another soft kiss to her lips. His words melted into her mouth when he muttered, “Wear something nice and meet me after class.”

He pulled away just in time to see the wide grin that found its way onto her face. “Is this your way of asking me on a date?” 

Instead of granting her an answer, he just kissed her again before walking away, calling over his shoulder, “Be ready at the base of Ravenclaw Tower.”

“How nice is ‘something nice?’” she questioned. 

“The nicest you have!” he said as he made it down the hallway, blending into the crowd of students swarming to their next classes. 

\-------

“You look beautiful,” Zelda said, smiling at Avalon as she looked in the mirror one last time. “Have fun, be safe, and tell Riddle to have you back at a reasonable hour.”

“Yes, mum,” Avalon chuckled, shaking her head as she grabbed a coat out of her dresser and slipped it on over the pearly, satin dress she had borrowed from Rosalie. “I’ll see you later!” she called out as she waved to her roommate and walked out the door and slowly made her way down to the bottom of Ravenclaw Tower. 

She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t excited for the night. The day had dragged on rather slowly, with most of her time spent trying to figure out what Tom had planned for the evening. It was hard to tell, and he had been quite adamant about keeping all details secret. 

When she stepped out of the Tower, she was instantly greeted by the sight of Tom waiting outside. He was dressed in a black suit and tie with a white dress shirt underneath. The pair looked at each other, each of their hearts skipping a beat but both trying to bite back the wide smiles that stretched across their faces. 

It felt as though they were drawn together like magnets, incapable of resisting the urge to melt into one another’s arms. He pulled her toward him and cupped the side of her face as he leaned down and kissed her, muttering into her lips, “You are breathtaking.” 

“As are you,” she said, grinning when she pulled away and saw the way his lips were tilting into a slight smirk at the compliment. “So, what are we doing tonight?”

“If I told you, it would ruin the surprise,” he answered, chuckling at her pouting face and taking her hand into his own, lacing their fingers together. “You’ll see soon enough.”

“Can I have a hint?”

He just smiled, avoiding her prying eyes as he led them through the castle and out the main entrance. They passed by several other students, all of them stopping to stare with wide eyes as the duo walked by in their formal wear. 

Avalon continued to pester Tom on their walk, trying desperately to pry information out of him as he led them outside the castle. Much to her disappointment, he was determined to keep his lips sealed and offered little to no clues as to their evening plans. 

When they began to head past the castle’s boundaries, she had to remind him that students weren’t allowed to leave the grounds on weekdays, let alone at this hour, but he just shrugged and grinned, insisting that they couldn’t get in trouble if they didn’t get caught. 

Tom Riddle bending the rules almost seemed like it was a fever dream. Never one to quite break school guidelines, he actually appeared quite relaxed as the two of them snuck off the grounds and toward Hogsmeade. 

The air was crisp and cool, the wind blowing softly against their skin as they walked hand in hand. There were moments when he would stop walking and pull her into his arms, placing a few soft kisses on her lips as he reminded her of how beautiful she looked before they continued on their trek, both of their faces permanently fixed with adoring smiles. 

She felt happy. 

For the first time in a long time, she felt genuinely happy. As if all of it had been worth it. The pain, the struggle, the heartache-- it felt as though it hadn’t been for nothing. Because he was hers and she was his, and everything made perfectly imperfect sense to her. 

Avalon had never been one to fall in love easily-- loving was analogous to losing and she had already lost too much to open her heart up to more pain. But, she couldn’t stop herself with Tom. He was-- despite all odds-- the missing piece that her soul had been longing for. And when she looked into his eyes-- his eyes that finally shone with a light that had never before been lit within him-- she knew that he felt the same. 

He held onto her hand the same way he wanted to hold onto her: with no intention of ever letting go. Not a moment went by when he didn’t think about how he had nearly lost her: not only due to his own cowardice, but also due to the boggart. 

The image of her near-lifeless body in his arms had haunted him for days now. 

It relentlessly plagued his every waking moment and his nighttime thoughts. Never before had he felt so completely helpless as he had while he was forced to watch her slowly near her death before him. And it was something he knew he could never feel again. 

He couldn’t lose her. And he would do anything to make sure that never happened. He would be the person she needed, become whatever it was that she deserved. Anything he had to do to make sure she’d always be by his side, he was willing to do. 

Because she had slowly become his everything. 

Hogsmeade reached their sight as they neared the village and he tried to bite back his smile when he saw how her footsteps were growing faster and faster as she excitedly dragged them forward. She kept meeting his eyes, her own gaze sparkling with abundant elation that made his own heart skip a beat each time it landed on him. 

“Will you tell me where we’re going  _ now _ ?” she pried.

“Patience, dove,” he chastised, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as they began walking into Hogsmeade. The village was rather empty-- with no students allowed on weekdays, it was primarily just the shop-owners and a couple of straggling visitors. 

When they passed by Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop, Tom slowed down for a moment and Avalon sent him a pointed glare, daring him to take her there. But, he just laughed and shook his head, instead taking her into the alleyway behind the shop. 

She looked around, confusion written all over her face. “I’m not going to lie to you… this is not what I had in mind when you told me to dress nicely,” she said.

“Do you not think that dark alleys are the epitome of romance?” he asked, a cheeky grin on his lips. 

“I’m starting to think you have no idea what romance is,” she teased. 

He rolled his eyes and pulled her forward, pressing a soft kiss to her lips before taking her other hand into his and suddenly apparating the two of them to another place. 

When she felt her feet land back on the ground, she stumbled forward, falling right into his grasp as she tried to regain her balance. “Merlin, Tom,” she grumbled, steadying herself as he laughed lightly to himself. Her eyes slowly took in the scene around her, once again narrowing back on him as she said, “Another alleyway? I’m swooning.”

Still, it was hard for her to not smile. Truthfully, she didn’t much care where they were-- he could take her to the end of the earth and she’d still be happy as long as he was there. But, something about the knowing grin on his lips confused her even more. 

“Follow me,” he instructed, gently leading her out of the alley and toward the lit street at the edge. He made sure to keep his gaze fixed on her so he could watch the way her jaw dropped when she finally realized where they were. 

The canals before them glimmered with the light of a thousand stars in the sky. Shining black gondolas floated through the water while the distant sounds of a violin echoed through the streets as a performer played music for all those who wandered by. Every building was lined with a dozen colorful flowers overflowing from their ornate boxes while people walked beneath them hand in hand, everybody seemingly in their own world as the beauty of the scenery stole their sole focus. 

It made Tom happy to see her like that-- her eyes gleaming with excitement as she took in the sights around them. He could see her open her mouth a few times to say something, but words kept failing her as she admired the scenery of Venice before her. 

Finally, Avalon turned to look at him, her eyes wide as she stood there, for once entirely speechless. 

“It’s not quite as romantic as an alleyway, but perhaps it will do,” he said, a grin on his lips. 

A wide smile stretched across her lips as she excitedly bounced up and down on the tip of her toes. “Tom…” 

He pulled her toward him, her hand resting on his chest as she looked up into his eyes. “What do you think?”

“I think that if the professors find out we left Hogwarts to come to Italy, we’re both dead,” she said, biting back her grin. 

He chuckled, kissing her and whispering into her lips, “Then I suppose we just have to make sure they never find out.”

“Who are you and what have you done to Tom Riddle?” she asked, her eyes skirting down to watch as he rubbed small circles into the back of her hand with his thumb. 

The sound of his laughter had grown to become one of her favorite things to hear. It was light, harmonious, and happy. 

He was happy. 

And it was as though he was an entirely different person when he was. It was hard for her to believe that the same boy who had caused her so much hurt was the person standing before her, a soft smile on his lips as he looked at her like she was the only person his eyes could ever see. As if when he looked at her, nothing else mattered-- because to him, nothing else did. 

“Let’s go,” he grinned, pressing one last kiss to her forehead before walking down the street with her. “Wouldn’t want to be late.”

“Late?” she asked. “For what?”

He didn’t answer, once again just smirking to himself as he ignored her questions and instead diverted her focus by wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her into his warmth. As they walked down the streets, she felt an air of ease wash over both of their bodies. It was as though the rest of the world faded to nothingness and all that was left behind were two souls who found completion through one another. 

They passed by shops, singers, restaurants, and lovers-- all of the sights blending together into a picturesque scene that felt as though it were straight out of a fairytale. Slowly, she began to notice crowds of people dressed in their finest formalwear, all of them headed toward a large building that towered far above the nearby stores and streets. 

Terracotta figurines adorned its walls while guests slowly trickled in through the main entrance, walking into the building hand in hand with their partners. Tom smiled at her as she linked her arm with his and he led them up the stairs and inside. 

Once they stepped inside, they were greeted with a grand foyer-- chandeliers hung from the ceiling and the guests were dressed in their finest gowns and suits. Sparkling jewels rested on the necks of the women while the men chatted amidst themselves, cigars in hand. 

Tom strode up to the box-office and smiled at the man behind the counter.  _ “ _ _ Buonasera. Ho due biglietti sotto il nome Riddle.” _

Avalon’s eyes widened as soon as the words left his mouth. 

The man at the counter nodded, smiling at Tom.  _ “Si, signore. Ecco qui,” _ he said, handing Tom two tickets.  _ “Vorresti essere accompagnato ai tuoi posti?”  _

_ “Sarebbe fantastico, grazie,”  _ replied Tom, watching as the man ushered over one of his coworkers and quickly whispered something to him. 

He motioned for Tom and Avalon to follow the other man, smiling as he said,  _ “Puoi seguire l’usciere. Goderti lo spettacolo.” _

Tom nodded at the man behind the counter before following the usher as he led them through the crowd toward another set of doors at the back of the foyer. Avalon tugged lightly at his arm, earning Tom’s attention as he looked down at her with a soft smirk on his lips. “Since when do you speak Italian?” she asked.

“It’s not much different than Latin,” he replied with a slight shrug. 

She paused for a moment, furrowing her eyebrows. “And since  _ when _ do you speak Latin?”

He chuckled. “I studied it in my free time. Seeing as every contemporary spell in existence has a Latin root, I found it rather useful.”

She just shook her head, her jaw hanging slightly ajar as they were led through the doors. The sight that greeted them was a grand theater, unlike anything she had ever seen before. An intricate pastel mural adorned the ceiling while glimmering, golden chandeliers hung down over the endless rows of red seats. Ornate intricacies lined the walls while luxurious curtains draped across a beautiful stage at the front of the hall, a plethora of musical instruments lined up neatly before the audience. 

The sound of chattering echoed through the large concert hall while people were filed into their seats. Most guests had already been sat down, now waiting for the show to begin. As she and Tom were led further and further toward the stage, she found herself once again growing speechless as the usher smiled and motioned for them to take two seats that were mere rows from the front of the stage. 

Tom thanked the usher and led Avalon to their seats, sitting down and trying to suppress his laughter at her wide-eyes and uncharacteristically speechless self. A few moments passed before she finally whispered, “How did you pull this off?”

“You said it before, connections are everything,” he smiled, raising her hand to his lips and pressing a soft kiss onto her skin as she stared at him, still in awe. 

“This is insane,” she said.

“I wanted our first real date to be one that you would never forget,” he replied, taking note of how her entire face seemed to radiate with a happiness he wished he could always give her. 

She bit down on her bottom lip, trying to hide the excitement on her face as she looked toward the stage. “I’ve never been to a symphony before.”

There was a knowing look on his face as he said, “I think you’ll quite like this one.”

Before she was able to reply, the lights dimmed and the audience fell into a hush as the theater began to prepare for the show. He couldn’t help but feel his heart skip a beat when he watched her eyes light up with pure joy while she took in the sights around them. 

Moments later, the stage was cast in the warm spotlight and the musicians began to file into their seats while the audience politely clapped to signal the start of the show. The conductor made his way to the front of the stage, taking his spot at the raised podium with his back to the audience. A few moments of silence passed as the audience’s applause died down before the conductor signaled for the start of the symphony.

The moment she heard the first note, she turned to look at Tom, her eyes wide while the orchestra performed Vivaldi’s composition.

He had brought them to listen to Vivaldi’s music in the birthplace of the composer. 

A soft smile was permanently etched onto his lips as he met her gaze, giving her hand a light squeeze as she took in a deep breath. The beautiful sounds of the orchestra filled the entire concert hall, painting the air with a surreal divinity that filled Avalon’s mind and heart with a thousand thoughts and feelings. 

She couldn’t help but have half of her focus on the concert, the other half on Tom. 

It was perfect: the music, the theater… him. Everything felt right. Everything felt good. And for once, she felt as though things were actually meant to be. Like everything that had happened so far had led her to this exact moment for a reason. And if he was the reason, then she thought it was all worth it in the end. 

She rested her head on his shoulder while she listened to the symphony, her heart skipping a beat when she felt him turn ever-so-slightly and kiss the top of her head. He mindlessly moved his hand down to rest just above her knee, his fingers tracing soft figures into her skin from over her satin dress. 

Her nose was tickled by the familiar scent of his cologne and she couldn’t help the feeling of contentment she felt when she pulled back just enough to watch him out of the corner of her eye. His gaze was focused on the concert, his profile greeting her with the likes of a perfectly carved statue that artists mistook for deities. The dark curls atop his head were flawlessly pushed back away from his eyes, though his long lashes still enveloped his gaze every time he blinked. 

Every time another composition ended, the audience would clap and cheer and another would begin, starting an endless cycle of breathtaking symphonies that echoed seamlessly throughout the concert hall. When the orchestra eventually began to play Four Seasons, Avalon felt as though she were transported back in time to when she and Tom had first begun to spend time together in the Room of Requirement. 

How different things had been back then. 

With their constant bickering, angry arguments, and incessant frustrations with one another, it felt like a lifetime ago. As though the people they had been were long gone, instead replaced by the inseparable spirits they were today. She wasn’t sure how it had happened, nor did she care much anymore, but she couldn’t see herself ever going back to the person she had been before. He had changed her, and she him, and she thought that they were both better for it. 

She gently pulled herself closer to him, holding onto him as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. His free hand gently squeezed her leg, his touch making her heart skip a beat. 

She felt complete. 

For the first time in her entire life, she felt complete. 

It would be naive for her to say that she thought her mission was complete, but as she looked at him, somehow she didn’t see the future Dark Lord anymore. All she saw was Tom. And for one reason or another, she no longer thought that Tom and the Dark Lord were one in the same. 

She no longer thought that he would become Voldemort. 

Caution was not something she was quite yet willing to throw to the wind, but something about him was different-- no, everything about him was different. He was loving, passionate, devout… 

He was human.

Not a shell of a person, not an empty soul. He was real, and he was loved. 

And she hoped that was enough. 

She  _ needed _ that to be enough. 

Every once in a while, he would shift his focus from the concert to Avalon, a smile instantly painting across his lips the moment his stare landed on her. It was as though his eyes softened the moment they met hers-- becoming nothing more than mirrors of adoration reflecting back her own love whenever they looked at one another. 

Every time he looked at her, he found it difficult to shift his focus back to the symphony afterward. He never wanted to look away, she was the only thing that captivated every part of his being. 

Slowly, he dragged his eyes away from hers and back to the stage. But, not before he managed to sneak in a moment of looking her up and down, a smirk on his lips as he swallowed down his own thoughts. 

He knew he had the most beautiful date in that entire theater, and he found no use trying to hide his satisfaction from that knowledge. 

Avalon finally found herself once again getting lost in the sound of the music, her focus returning to the stage as she watched the musicians fill the theater with the beautiful sounds of Vivaldi’s compositions. 

But, every so often, she would be distracted by the feeling of his fingers tracing soft figures along the fabric of her dress. Even through the satin, she could feel the warmth of his touch and it sent sparks through her body every time. 

The worst part was that he didn’t even seem to notice what he was doing-- his eyes were still glued to the stage, though his fingertips aimlessly danced along the side of her dress, pulling her attention back to him no matter how hard she tried to watch the concert. 

Time seemed to flow both entirely too fast and entirely too slow all at once. When the musicians finally wrapped up the first half of the concert, the entire audience erupted in excited applause as the lights slowly turned back on and the curtain fell before the stage. 

People slowly made their way out to the foyer as the short intermission began, though Tom and Avalon remained in their seats. She turned to face him and his eyes were already glued to her when she did. “How do you like it so far?” he asked, moving a strand of her hair behind her ear as he spoke. 

“I love it,” she answered truthfully. “This is… definitely the best first date I have ever been on,” she said with a laugh. 

He put his finger beneath her chin, tilting her head up to look up at him. He kept her gaze for a moment, trying to engrain the way she looked into his memory forever before his hand snaked around her head and pulled her toward him as he pressed a kiss to her lips. 

He didn’t care what the people around them thought nor did he care who saw. She was his and he was hers and he wanted the whole world to know it. 

When he pulled away, his lips trailed to her ear and he whispered against her skin, “And I intend for this to be the last first date you ever go on.”

She felt her breath hitch in the back of her throat and bit the inside of her cheek as she tried not to smile too hard. The warmth of his touch lingered on her skin and she found herself longing for it back the moment he pulled away. 

She opened her mouth to say something when the lights dimmed once more, signaling to the audience to return to their seats. He smiled at her and gently gave her hand a squeeze, but she couldn’t help the growing desire that was budding within her. 

She wanted him. 

The people around them were quickly filing back into their seats, but her attention was elsewhere. As the musicians made their way back onto the stage, a devious idea popped into her head. 

She focused on her thoughts, compartmentalizing her memories as she shoved the visions of her friends, her past, and the future into the back of her mind. A moment later, she closed her eyes and channeled her energy into prying into Tom’s mind.

She knew that his Occlumency guard would be up and that she wouldn’t be able to get into his thoughts-- but it didn’t matter, that wasn’t what she was trying to do. 

He turned to look at her, confusion on his face as he felt her attempt to enter his mind. She slowly dragged her eyes to meet his, a devilish smirk on her lips as she raised an eyebrow, as if to invite him to try and read her own mind. 

There was obvious uncertainty written across his features as he tilted his head, trying to make sure he wasn’t mistaken with her request. But, she just nodded, once again focusing her thoughts, this time pushing a specific memory to the front of her mind. 

He mouthed to her _ ‘are you sure’ _ before she nodded and he kept her gaze, wordlessly using Legilimency to enter her mind. 

She held his eyes, but bit down on her bottom lip trying to suppress her satisfaction as she saw the way his eyes darkened the moment he saw the memory she was projecting. 

His vision swarmed with memories of his lips on her neck, her nails on his back, their bodies pressed against one another. The feeling of her skin against his, the sound of their moans blending together, the sight of her lips wrapped around him...

His jaw clenched as he realized what she was doing. 

She turned her head and looked away, breaking his connection to her thoughts as she slowly stood up and began walking out of the row, politely excusing herself as she glided past the people around them, leaving him behind with wide-eyes and his breath caught in his own throat. 

The first note of the second half of the concert rang through the theater, snapping him back into reality. When she looked over her shoulder and caught his eyes, she was met by his lustful stare and grinned to herself, winking at him as she swiped her thumb across her bottom lip and turned away from him once more, continuing her walk away. 

He watched her saunter away, her hips swaying with a godly confidence as she left him behind. There was no need for him to see her face-- he already knew that she had a wide grin plastered on her lips. She knew exactly what she was doing to him. 

She knew she was driving him mad. 

Without wasting another moment, he stood up and followed after her, forgetting about the concert as he tried to catch up with her as she made her way toward the back of the theater. She led them out of the theater and through the grand foyer, into a small, dimly lit hallway with ornate candelabras perched atop marble tables. She waited until she heard his footsteps come up right behind her before she spun around and grinned, one hand grabbing his tie while the other rested atop his racing heart. “Can I help you?”

He looked at her with a mix of frustration, disbelief, and awe, which only made her laugh as she tugged him by his tie and led the two of them into one of the bathrooms behind them. The room was large and spacious-- a private stall lined from head to toe in white marble. She locked the door behind them before pulling him toward her and meeting his lips for a needy kiss. 

Her hands trailed down his body, feeling the lean muscle beneath his shirt as her touch grazed lower and lower. A satisfied smirk found its way onto her lips when she finally felt the growing bulge beneath his pants. 

“You’re insane,” he said breathlessly. 

She pulled on his tie, grinning when he leaned down enough for her to whisper into his ear. “Is that a complaint?” 

He rolled his eyes, his jaw clenching when she palmed him through his pants. “Do you enjoy being a tease?”

“I think we both enjoy it,” she winked, letting go of his tie to tangle her fingers into his hair as she pulled him forward and kissed his neck. The feeling of her lips against him was enough to drive him wild, but the moment her teeth grazed his skin, he let out a slight groan and wrapped his arms around her. 

She pulled away just in time to lock eyes with him as he grabbed her waist and hoisted her up onto the marble countertop. He hiked her dress up beneath her and spread her legs so he could stand between them, leaning down to meet her lips once more as her fingers hastily grappled with his belt. She was able to undo it in no time, then popping open the button on his pants. 

There was a sense of urgency alight in the both of them as they fervently kissed one another, their hands desperately searching the other’s skin for a sense of belonging that they knew they could find in each other. 

The sound of the orchestra resonated through the walls, silencing their breathless panting as their lips met in kiss after kiss. He barely heard the slight moan that left her parted mouth when he pushed her underwear to the side and ran a finger along her. His lips turned into a smirk when he lifted his finger to his lips and licked it clean before he kissed her again, the taste of her arousal still lingering on his lips. “Already wet for me,” he said into the kiss. 

“It appears...” she whispered, her hand slipping beneath his waistband and pulling out his hardened length. Her fingers wrapped around him, her touch drawing a low moan out from his lips as she grinned and said, “...that I am not the only one who is eager.”

The room was burning with a relentless requisite for one another. No matter how close he pulled her toward him, he was still left wanting-- no, needing-- more. His lips found hers once again, meeting her mouth in a heated kiss that was charged with every emotion coursing through his body. 

She moved her touch up and down him, a look of satisfaction painting across her face when she felt his hot breath hit her lips the moment he let out a desperate groan.

His hands ran up her body, sending jolts of electricity through every inch of her being. Her free hand found its way to the side of his face as their lips blended together, their tongues outlining one another as they melted into each other.

The cold marble beneath her was a chilling contrast against the warmth of his hands. Low groans tore through the back of his throat as her hand worked their way up and down his length, the sounds of his pleasure blending into the symphony that echoed through the walls around them. 

Only a few moments passed before her need grew too much to bear and she rocked her hips forward, aligning his tip with her as his lips met hers once more. But, this time the kiss wasn’t as desperate as usual. It was adoring and perfect and felt like fire lived within his lips and he was setting every piece of her soul on fire. He pulled her as close as he possibly could before slowly pushing himself into her, the two of them grasping to each other as their moans blended into one. 

She pulled away from his kiss for just a moment to meet his eyes. 

When their eyes met, it felt as though time stopped. There was something different in the way he was looking at her-- it was more than just carnal desire. It was more than just lust. It was more than physical need. 

It was as though he found salvation in her eyes-- religion in her lips. 

He looked at her as though she was the universe and he was just a star. As though she was the ocean and he was a drop of rain. 

And when she looked into his eyes, she saw a reflection of her own heart-- whole, loving, and finally at peace. It occurred to her that she never had to choose to fall for him-- because when she looked at him and saw those eyes, she realized that she never had a choice. She was falling one way or another. 

His arms clung to her figure, wrapped around her back as their bodies became inseparable. His thrusts grew quicker and deeper as his lips once again found solace in hers. Holding her felt like grasping onto an angel that had fallen down to earth-- she was perfection and he was too selfish to let her return to the heavens. 

Her fingers tangled into his hair and she pulled at his dark locks while he led his wandering mouth back to her neck, leaving a trail of tantalizing kisses along her skin. 

“God, Tom,” she panted out, her voice sending jolts through his body. 

The sound of the orchestra bled through the walls, but hearing her say his name was still the most harmonious thing he had ever heard. “Say my name again,” he muttered against her neck, moving a hand down to rub circles onto her clit while he thrust into her. 

“Tom,” she breathed out, her voice something between a pant and a moan as he worked his fingers against her. His movements were becoming more erratic as both of them neared their peaks, their exigency growing more and more forward as they clung to each other in desperation. 

He could tell she was nearing her finish-- her nails were raking down his back and her movements were growing less controlled as she let soft moans spill from her swollen lips. 

“Again,” he panted. 

His fingers continued to work against her and suddenly every part of her body felt as though it were in nirvana. Her finish tore through her like a tidal wave and all she could do was moan out his name one last time. “Fuck, Tom…”

And that was enough for him to finish, too. 

Their bodies slumped together, his arms holding onto her as their foreheads rested against each other. The orchestra was still playing outside, but all they could hear was the quiet sounds of their own labored breathing. 

When he finally looked up and met her eyes once more, he knew that he had, after all this time, finally found the piece of himself that had always been missing through her. It was as though their souls had been waiting a lifetime for their hearts to catch up, and now that they had, everything had fallen into place. 

She leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before pulling away and smiling at him, her eyes tired, but happy. 

He didn’t understand how it had happened, and he didn’t think he ever would. All he knew was that he felt things for her that he had never felt for anyone before. And he didn’t think he would ever be the same as he was before her.

“What have you done to me, dove?” he asked breathlessly, lightly laughing to himself when he saw the soft smile that found its way onto her lips. 

\--------

The pair walked out of the theater hand in hand once the second half of the concert had ended. When they had returned to their seats, they received several dirty glares from the people sitting around them, though neither of them paid their onlookers any mind. They had one another and that was all that they cared about. 

And, as they filed out the building amidst a crowd of fellow attendees, neither one could wipe the wide smiles that had permanently etched onto their faces. Tom began to lead them back toward the canals, the moon looming overhead and dancing atop the glimmering water beneath them as they strode through the streets, their fingers intertwined as they talked about the show.

“It was perfect,” she said, giving his hand a squeeze. “Tonight was perfect. All of it.”

He lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss on her knuckles. He noticed her eyes stray toward a group of friends walking past them, a glint of sadness finding its way into her gaze. “What’s on your mind?”

She shook her head, her smile returning to her lips. Though, it wasn’t quite as bright as before. “Nothing.”

His footsteps came to a halt, earning her undivided attention as he pulled her closer to him, enveloping her in his arms as he stood before her. “Avalon, you can tell me anything.”

She opened her mouth for a moment, debating her words before sighing and putting a hand on his cheek. “Tonight was perfect,” she repeated. “I only wish that… I don’t know. Sometimes I just think about all the people I have left behind and…” She struggled to come up with the right words as she spoke. “I am so happy right now-- all because of you. And I only wish that I could share it with the people I love. I just want you to know them and them to know you and no longer have this great divide between the people I care for.”

He put his hand atop hers, gently rubbing the back of her palm with his thumb. “Perhaps one weekend we can sneak off campus and meet your aunt,” he suggested. 

But, he was only greeted by a sad smile. She nodded and said, “Perhaps,” before taking his hand back into her own and giving it another squeeze, leading the two of them back on their walk down the street. 

He knew she wasn’t telling the full truth-- she had never become better at lying. Though, he had begun to care less and less about that. One day, she would let him in and tell him the truth, and when that day came, he would be ready. But, they had all of eternity for that-- time no longer scared him. 

What did scare him, however, was how much he was still hiding from her. All of his past demons, his sins, his darkness… all the things he now wished to protect her from, still lingered like skeletons in his closet. And the thought of her knowing the true extent of his wrongdoings worried him like no other. 

He couldn’t lose her. And he wasn’t sure if he would have to hide his past from her until the very end, or if one day he’d have to confess to his wrongdoings, but either way, the thought raised a feeling of dread within him that he could never quite rid himself of. 

The sound of a nearby musician rattled both of them out of their thoughts, their attention instead turning to watch the old man play his cello on the stairs leading up to a nearby cathedral. His solemn music rang through the night’s cold air, but Avalon smiled as she felt Tom’s hands wrap around her waist, leading her body back to his as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. 

She put her hand atop his chest and felt the beating of his heart beneath his shirt. Slowly, he placed his touch atop hers, his eyes staring into her own when he said, “It beats for you. Today, tomorrow, forever— my heart is yours.”

And as they stood there, the stars twinkling in the sky above them, they realized that despite all odds, they had both inexplicably fallen for one another.


	51. Chapter 51

“You did  _ what _ in a bathroom?!” Orion gasped. 

Avalon whacked him across the arm. “Keep your bloody voice down!” 

He leaned back against the windowsill, laughing as he shook his head. The twinkling night sky shone in through the tower window, their voices echoing through the corridor as they sat in their isolation. 

“Merlin,” he chuckled. “You two really  _ are _ made for each other.”

She rolled her eyes, but a hint of a smile lingered on her lips as she thought back to her and Tom’s escapade with their Venice date. “It really was a perfect night, though.”

“I’m glad-- it’s the least you deserved after the hell you’ve been through recently,” he said. They both sat in comfortable silence for a moment, a familiar sense of contentment between the two. 

Avalon couldn’t help but feel at peace when she was around Orion. From the very first moment they had met, she had sensed his good-nature and his kind heart. His friendship was something she cherished dearly. 

And that was why it was easy for her to tell that something was on his mind. “You’re thinking about Clara, aren’t you?” she asked softly. 

He snapped out of his thoughts, a mixture of nerves and determination in his eyes. “I’ve been thinking about telling my parents about her and me,” he blurted out, avoiding Avalon’s eyes. “I would have to ask Clara, first, but I just…” his words trailed off as he sighed. “By next month, we will have been together for an entire year. I don’t want to keep us a secret anymore.”

Avalon wanted to be supportive, but she couldn’t help but feel anxious thinking about how his family would react to his relationship with a muggle-born witch. The Averys had been blatantly obvious about their views in regards to blood-status on her one occasion coming in contact with them. 

“Orion-”

“I know I sound like I’ve lost my mind, but believe me when I say I have thought about this,” he said, his voice filled with resolve. 

“I just want you to be safe,” she said. “You and Clara, both.”

“Safety isn’t my concern, truthfully. The worst they would do is disown me, and if that is the case, so be it. If I have to choose between her or them, I would pick her every time,” he said, shrugging. “The thought scared me for quite some time, but not anymore. If they truly love me, they will love her, too-- no matter her blood-status. And if not, then I will not live my life fearing their judgement.”

“You know them better than I do,” Avalon said slowly, trying to keep her fear out of her voice. “Though, I just want you to be sure this is the right choice.”

He nodded, sighing. “I know, I just… I love her so much, Ava. I want to be able to give her the love that she deserves.”

Both of their attention was stolen when they heard footsteps at the end of the corridor. Orion quickly scrambled to his feet, running to the end of the dark hallway to make sure nobody had overheard their conversation. The sound traveled through the castle walls, echoing so loudly that neither Avalon nor Orion could tell what direction it was coming from. 

So, when Orion saw Tom walk out of the shadows, he let out a sigh of relief. “Merlin, you scared me,” Orion grumbled. 

“I was doing Prefect rounds,” Tom stated, noticing Avalon standing not too far behind Orion. “Should I write the two of you up for being out past curfew?”

“You’re the greatest killjoy I have ever met, you know,” Avalon teased, shaking her head. 

He let out a slight laugh, walking over to his girlfriend and pressing a kiss to the top of her head before leaning back against the wall, holding her against him as he did so. “I must say that the two of you are quite terrible at whispering.”

“I thought we were being rather quiet,” Orion said, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“I heard you both from all the way down the hall,” Tom said. “You ought to be careful or someone will find out about your relationship.”

“I hid it from you for a year,” Orion laughed. “Reckon I’m better at hiding things than you give me credit for.”

“Trust me, Avery, had I cared about your romantic relationships in the slightest bit, I would have known,” Tom said back, rolling his eyes. He earned a glare from Avalon before letting out a sigh and thinking for a moment. “Follow me,” he instructed Orion while dragging Avalon alongside him, holding her hand. 

Orion and Avalon shared a confused look as Tom led the trio through the castle. They passed by a small group of Third Years-- Tom ordered them to get back to their rooms, earning wide-eyes and quick scurries off to their dorms. 

It started to become clear to Avalon where Tom was taking them a few minutes later. When they stopped before the familiar blank wall, she gave his hand a slight squeeze, trying to hold back her happiness at his kind gesture. 

Orion, on the other hand, looked as confused as ever. “Am I missing something?” the blond asked, glancing around the empty corridor. 

“Do you wish that there was a place where you and Clara could be together without fear of being caught?” asked Tom. 

Orion narrowed his eyes. “Of course I do, but-”

“Close your eyes and try to envision that place,” Tom instructed him, cutting off his words. Orion looked to Avalon, who nodded encouragingly. 

“I swear on Merlin’s grave if you two are pranking me…” he grumbled, closing his eyes and trying to focus. A few moments later, he opened his eyes when he heard the stones on the wall begin to shift. As the entrance to the Room of Requirement opened up before him, he stared at Tom and Avalon, his face ridden with shock. “You’ve got to be joking…”

Avalon pushed the door open, motioning for Orion to walk in. He strode in, eyes wide as he tried to force out words. “I… this… wait a minute.” His face contorted as his thoughts swam before him, finally putting pieces together. “Is this where the two of you disappear when we can’t find you for hours at a time?!”

\--------

The next morning, Avalon awoke to the feeling of Tom’s arms pulling her closer to the warmth of his body. She rolled around to face him, her eyes still groggy as she looked up at him and smiled. 

Waking up beside him was the norm nowadays. She continuously found herself apologizing to Zelda for never returning to their dorm, but her roommate just laughed it off and joked that having a single bedroom was actually the greatest gift Avalon could have given her. So, Avalon didn’t feel too bad spending every night in Tom’s room. 

He was already wide awake-- typical for him, since he tended to wake up hours earlier than her. Though, she had noticed that he had stopped leaving in the mornings, instead opting to stay in bed with her until she woke up, too. “Good morning,” he said, his voice still raspy when he leaned forward and kissed the top of her head, his arms still wrapped around her. 

She cuddled into his chest, pressing a soft kiss atop his heart. “Morning,” she replied, her eyes softening when she saw the smile on his face. 

He pushed a stray piece of her hair behind her ear, his eyes holding her gaze as he watched her adoringly. Every once in a while, she noticed he would glance over at his bedside table where he kept his diary. 

Avalon knew that despite all the progress Tom had already made, she still needed him to willingly tell her about his Horcruxes if she were to fully trust him. She wanted, more than anything else, to believe that she had successfully changed him and that he would no longer become the Dark Lord, but as long as those Horcruxes remained a secret he thought he could hold from her, she knew she still had a lot of work left to do. But, for the time being, she just wanted to believe that he would, in his own time, tell her about them. 

She had enough faith in him to believe that he would-- and judging by the way he seemed to keep looking toward the diary, it appeared as though it was at least on his mind. And in many ways, she needed to be right about this. 

She loved him. And she wanted him to know that he was loved. Because she was afraid that in his life, he had very rarely, if ever, been shown genuine love. And she wanted to take a page out of her optimistic friends’ books and believe that love could change a person, so she wanted Tom to know that she loved him with every ounce of her being. But, she also didn’t want to say those three sacred words until he said them first-- not because she was afraid, or because she didn’t mean them. But rather because she didn’t want him to feel as though he had to say them back if he wasn’t ready. She wanted to let him take his time. 

Her eyes scanned his room to look at the clock. A slight groan left her lips when she took note of how they would soon have to leave for their classes-- the start of the week had dwindled her motivation to leave the bed down to nothingness. There was nothing more tempting than the thought of staying in bed with him all day, but she begrudgingly began to sit up to get ready to leave. 

But, instead of letting her leave the bed, he just pulled her back toward him, holding her laughing body against him as he refused to let go. “We have to get ready for class,” she reminded him. 

“Must we?” he muttered, pressing a soft kiss onto her neck. “We could just stay here…”

“I have already gotten detention because of you,” she chastised, shaking her head as she tried to swat him away. 

“One more won’t kill you,” he said, putting his finger under her chin to lift her eyes to meet his.

“What happened to the Tom I knew that was afraid of getting in trouble?” she asked.

“He found himself caught up with the most troublesome person he’d ever met,” he chuckled. 

It took a great deal of self-control to shake her head again, but she kissed his cheek and rolled out of bed, earning an annoyed groan from him as he watched her get dressed. “If I let you sway me into skipping the first class of the week, I have a feeling I won’t make it to any of my courses at all,” she said, laughing to herself at the dejected look on his face. “Get dressed or we’re going to be late!”

He begrudgingly got out of bed, quickly changing into his uniform before grabbing his wand and freshening up. She followed suit, the two of them getting ready in a matter of minutes before making their way to the Great Hall for a hasty breakfast prior to class. 

When they finally made it to Defense Against the Dark Arts, nearly all the seats had already been taken, so they walked to the back of the classroom and sat at the furthest table from Merrythought’s desk. They were the last two students to walk in, even Lestrange having arrived before they had, so the Professor started the lesson as soon as they sat down. 

“Good morning, everyone,” Merrythought said, striding over to the center of the room. “If you would, please open your books to page 549.” Avalon and Tom both took their books out, flipping them to the day’s lesson and waiting for the shuffling in the classroom to subside as the other student’s opened their books. The Professor waited until everyone was ready before speaking again. “Today we will be learning about a rather powerful spell that few wizards fully master-- the Patronus Charm.” Slight murmurs echoed through the class as students discussed the advanced magic before the Professor spoke again. “For those of you who may not be familiar, the Patronus Charm is a defensive spell cast to ward off dementors. There are two types of Patronuses: corporeal and non-corporeal.”

She continued to teach the lesson, explaining how difficult casting a proper Patronus is and how even the most advanced wizards oftentimes could never master the spell. The lesson made Avalon’s mind wander off to her time spent in the Room of Requirement with Dumbledore’s Army. 

Watching her friends perfect their Patronuses, practicing her own, staying up late to try and prepare for the oncoming war. It felt as though it had been a lifetime ago. 

“Does anyone know the process of conjuring a Patronus?” asked Merrythought. 

She glanced around the room, waiting for someone to raise their hand. But, nobody did.

Tom rolled his eyes, keeping his focus on the book before him. The Patronus Charm was one of the few spells he had never been able to master and it bothered him to no end. He had stopped attempting to cast it quite some time ago, refusing to acknowledge that there was something out there that was too difficult for him to do. 

A Gryffindor in the front raised his hand and answered, “The spell used is  _ ‘Expecto Patronum’  _ and you have to say it with resolve in your voice.”

“That is correct,” said the Professor, though Avalon knew she was waiting for a more complete answer. “Does anyone have anything to add to that?”

Avalon waited a few moments to see if anyone else would raise their hand-- Zelda was furiously flipping through her textbook in the front row, trying to figure out how to answer the question, but Merrythought looked as though she were growing impatient, so Avalon lifted her hand into the air. 

“Ah, yes, Miss Hendrix!” the professor smiled. 

“While that is the correct spell, it isn’t quite as simple as just stating the phrase and hoping it will work. The caster has to focus on their happiest memory while attempting to conjure their Patronus. The corporeal form is essentially a projection of what the dementors feed upon: happiness, hope, and the desire to survive. The memory you choose to focus on has to be the embodiment of all those things, otherwise it won’t be strong enough to ward off the dementors that would otherwise be seeking to suck those things out of the wizard, themself,” she said. 

“Precisely,” beamed Merrythought. “Five points to Ravenclaw!” she paused a moment before adding, “You seem to be quite familiar with the Patronus Charm. Do you have experience casting it?”

Avalon nodded, “Yes, Professor.”

Merrythought’s eyes widened, a glint of excitement in her face as she said, “Would you care to demonstrate for the class?”

Avalon glanced at Tom, who seemed a bit surprised to hear her admit to casting it, before she stood up and reluctantly made her way to the front of the class. All eyes were on her as she strode forward and stood beside the Professor. 

Avalon wasted no time and focused her mind on visions of her favorite memory. 

_ The grounds outside were coated with pure-white snow, but the inside of the Burrow was warm and inviting as they all sat around the fireplace, cups of steaming hot cocoa in their hands. Avalon glanced around, her heart happy as she looked at Fred and George sitting before her, Hermione and Ron on the couch opposite, Ginny and Harry on the floor, and the others chattering in the kitchen. They were dressed in their knitted sweaters, Molly having insisted everyone put them on for a group photo earlier. Discarded wrapping paper still lined the floor as they had opened presents only an hour ago, but the house was alight with a carefree sense of pure happiness that warmed Avalon’s heart like no other. Things were perfect, her loved ones were surrounding her, and the world was still oblivious to the extent that their world would soon change. _

_ All their attention was focused on Avalon’s aunt, Aurora, as she shared stories about members of the original Order while she sat beside Avalon. Harry loved to listen to Aurora-- she always told tales of his parents: their kindness, their drive, their loyalty.  _

_ “That’s incredible,” said Harry, beaming at the tale of his parents battling in the First Wizarding War.  _

_ “ _ **_They_ ** _ were incredible,” she answered. “Actually, they fought alongside Amelia and Finn in that battle,” she added, noticing how Avalon’s ears perked at the mention of her parents.  _

_ “Really?” Avalon asked, sitting up straight.  _

_ “You should have seen them… they were some of the bravest people I have ever known,” she said, speaking of Avalon’s parents. “Fearless and unapologetically strong,” she smiled, placing a hand on Avalon’s knee. “A lot like yourself. They’d be so proud of you, dearie.”  _

Avalon took in a deep breath before reciting the spell, the world fading away as she watched her wand shine with the silver-hue of her Patronus. Every single jaw in the class dropped when the spell took the shape of a proud, majestic panther that pounced in the air, earning a chorus of impressed gasps from the students and professor, alike. 

Tom always found himself in awe of her. Watching her produce a full-corporeal Patronus was no different. She stood there, at the front of the class, radiating with a power that no other student he had ever come into contact with was capable of possessing… and she was his. 

He couldn’t help the way his heartbeat sped up when he looked at her. He couldn’t help the way he was always speechless when faced with her true strength. He couldn’t help the way he knew he had fallen for her, no matter what he had believed about love all his life. 

It amazed him how no matter what horrors she had lived through, she was still capable of casting a Patronus. How despite all the hardships, all the pain and suffering that she had experienced, her heart still had room for happiness.

He never wanted her to be anything but happy. 

And he was determined to spend the rest of his life making sure she was far from harm’s way. Because deep down, he knew that she was the one he wanted to live his life with. Losing her was an unbearable thought that he didn’t even want to entertain-- she was the one for him. He saw no scenario in which he would find somebody else who made him feel the way she did. 

She was his other half-- the better half. 

And that was the only thing he knew for certain. 


	52. Chapter 52

Tom and Avalon glanced up from their schoolwork sprawled out on the table before them when they heard the door to the Room of Requirement open. 

Orion and Clara walked in, Orion’s hands covering both his own eyes and his girlfriend’s as he asked, “Are you both dressed?”

“We’re doing our homework, for Merlin’s sake,” Avalon said, rolling her eyes. 

“I had to be sure,” he chuckled, lowering his hands. “You never know with you two.”

In the last month since Tom had shown Orion the Room of Requirement, the two couples had spent a great deal of time together there. They would meet up after class and work on their assignments together-- the three Sixth Years finishing their homework while Orion forced Tom to help him with his despite being the oldest of the bunch. 

Avalon smiled as Clara sat down beside her, looking at the book about magical plants in front of her. “Are you researching for our Herbology project?” she asked. 

Avalon nodded. “Yeah, I think I’m going to try and grow Devil’s Snare.”

Clara’s eyes widened and she let out a nervous laugh. “That’s quite an… interesting choice.”

Avalon laughed, her attention turning to Orion when he excitedly exclaimed, “You guys will never guess what Clara gave me for our anniversary!”

“Charmed seeds?” Avalon said. 

“No, seeds that are charmed to- wait, how did you know?” he said, looking between the two laughing girls. “They’re incredible. I want to plant one of them by the edge of the Forest so one day when we’re all older, we can come back and see how much it’s grown.”

“What are they charmed with?” asked Tom curiously, his interest peaked.

“They essentially never die. She found a way to make the plants live through all sorts of weather, seasons, and climates. I’m telling you, she’s brilliant,” Orion smiled, kissing Clara on the cheek before plopping down on the couch behind them. 

“How did you charm them to never die?” Tom said, trying to hide how impressed he truly was.

“I researched a few different charms and combined them to create a process that would allow for plants to survive all types of terrain. It was quite easy, actually,” Clara said, motioning for Tom to join her as she pulled out a book from her bag and opened it up. He sat beside her, peering over her shoulder as she began showing him different chapters in the book that had helped her come up with the idea. 

Avalon quietly stood and went to sit beside Orion on the couch. “What kind of seeds did she give you?” she asked. 

“Sycamore,” he replied, a look of pure adoration in his eyes as he watched his girlfriend. “I told her a while back that there are a ton of them on the grounds at my house but they look rather dreary during the wintertime. Merlin, she’s perfect, Ava,” he breathed out quietly. 

She smiled, nodding her head. “She is. Have you put any more thought into telling your parents about her?”

He dropped his voice to a whisper, making sure Tom and Clara wouldn’t hear. “She seems to think we should hold off for a bit. I can’t say I agree with her, but I do see her concern. Perhaps she will change her mind, though-- I really do want to tell them,” he said. 

“In time, you will,” she said, reaching out and giving his hand a slight squeeze. 

He nodded absent-mindedly before his eyes lit up and he said, “Did you hear Axel is proposing to Rosalie tonight?”

“No way, that’s so exciting!” she gasped. 

“I can’t wrap my head around it,” he laughed. “I’ve known the wanker for as long as I can remember. It’s mental to think the kid who used to be afraid of my bloody pet cat is going to be engaged soon,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m happy for them, though. They belong together.”

“Do you know how he’s proposing?” she asked, hungry for details.

“He’s taken her off the castle grounds for the evening so they can sneak away and go on a date before he takes her to the manor he picked out for her-”

“Manor?”

“Yeah, his parents always said that he could choose one of their estates as a graduation gift, and so he picked one that he thought Rosalie would like best and furnished it for her so they can move in once we’re done with school. He’s asking her there,” he said excitedly. 

“That’s… wow,” she said, her voice trailing off. 

“What’s on your mind?” he asked, confused at the distant look in her eye. 

“Nothing,” she lied, though her mind was lost in thoughts of spending the rest of her life with one person. 

Avalon had never thought about marriage before-- for the past few years, she had rarely thought about the future at all. For members of the Order, survival hadn’t been a guarantee for quite some time. Thinking about time that was more than a day or two away wasn’t a promise, so she chose to focus on the  _ present _ . 

But, when she was sent to the  _ past _ , she had one task: stop Tom Riddle. 

She had thought the only way to do that was by killing him… now she had taken a gamble and gone down the path of changing him. But, it was a risk. One that she was constantly very aware of. 

Truthfully, she didn’t have a plan anymore. There were a lot of ‘what ifs’ that she didn’t want to think too much about. What if he told her about the Horcruxes, then what? What if he stopped caring for her, then what? What if he found out about who she really was, then what?

Was she supposed to keep her life a secret from him forever? Was she supposed to take him to the future with her? Was she supposed to go back to her time and leave him here? 

There were a lot of questions that she didn’t have an answer to, but she knew one thing for certain: if she were to spare Tom his life, it would be her obligation for the rest of her life to ensure that he never went down a path of darkness again. He would be her responsibility until the end of time. 

It was her decision to spare his life. It was her duty to save her friends’. 

The future scared her. It always had, and it now appeared that it always would. There was a constant nagging voice in her head that kept telling her she was gambling with the lives of her loved ones by giving Tom her heart, but it was too late to listen to it. Because her loved ones comprised a long list, and Tom was now one of them. And Avalon would do anything to ensure nobody she cared for ever got hurt again. 

Whatever that meant. 

Avalon looked at Tom, sitting with Clara as she excitedly explained her research to him and he patiently listened. Avalon couldn’t help but watch them with a slight smile on her lips-- Tom had opened up a great deal to Clara. She’d noticed how much his attitude toward muggle-born witches and wizards had shifted recently. He’d even yelled at Mulciber a few weeks prior when they were in the Slytherin common room, and Demitri had referred to a few muggle-borns on Gryffindor’s Quidditch team as mudbloods. 

He was changing. Every day he became a little bit better, and every day he strayed further and further from his path of destruction. And she wasn’t willing to give up on him now. 

Tom stood up, walking over and sitting on the other side of Avalon, slinging his arm around her shoulder. “Did you enjoy speaking to someone smarter than you for a change?” she asked him, grinning at how he rolled his eyes. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Only kidding,” she said, shrugging. “You do that every time you speak to me.”

He glared at her, which made both her and Orion chuckle. Clara smiled and added, “He’s incredibly bright. I suppose there’s a reason he’s to be Head Boy.”

“Love, don’t inflate his ego any more than it already is-- even the Room of Requirement won’t be able to fit it,” Avalon said jokingly. 

“Not with your big mouth here taking up all the space,” Tom retorted, holding back his own grin. 

“You didn’t seem to mind my mouth-”

“Alright,” said Orion, clapping his hands together as he stood up. “I’m starving. Dinner, anyone?”

Avalon frowned. “Dinner? You two just got here and we were supposed to study.”

“Tomorrow is the weekend-- we can study later,” Orion said, putting his hand on his stomach. “Can’t eat later, though.”

“Why not?” Avalon inquired.

“Because I will shrivel away to nothingness if I can’t stuff some mash into my mouth right this instant,” he replied. “So get up!”

“Chips are still better,” Avalon grumbled as she stood up, Tom following suit. 

“You’re objectively wrong,” Orion said. 

Avalon rolled her eyes, turning her attention to the others. “Clara? Tom? Chips or mash?”

“Mash,” they both replied. 

“Clara, I forgive you for your terrible judgement,” she said before turning to Tom. “You… I think we should break up.”

He shook his head, amusement written on his lips when he turned to Orion and joked, “I’m finally free.”

Avalon strode up to Clara, taking a hold of her hand and jokingly glaring at Tom. Orion looked between the bickering couple before reaching out and taking a hold of Tom’s hand, who quickly snatched it away. “Oh, sorry. Thought we were all having a moment,” the blond laughed. 

Avalon tried to bite back her smile as she and Clara began walking to the exit, the boys staggering a little bit further behind them. Before they were out in the hall, Clara turned to the group and said, “I should probably go back to my dorm and grab Isabella. She’ll never forgive me if I eat dinner without her.”

Orion walked over to Clara, so Avalon headed back to Tom, who took her into his arms immediately, resting his chin atop her head as they waited beside the door while Orion said his goodbyes to his girlfriend. “Meet me at the Greenhouse after dinner?” he asked, pressing a soft kiss to Clara’s lips. 

She smiled, nodding. “I’ll see you later. Bye Tom, bye Avalon!” The sweet girl waved at them all before walking off toward her dorm. 

Orion watched as she left, a lovestruck look in his eyes. A moment later, he turned back to Tom and Avalon. “Why do I always find myself as the third-wheel with you two?”

“I wonder the same thing,” Tom said, earning a whack across his chest from Avalon. “Kidding.”

“Oh, please,” Orion said, laughing. “If it weren’t for me and my superior match-making, you would be single and sulking in the library alone.”

“At least I’d have some peace and quiet,” Tom retorted. Avalon frowned and tried to lightly smack his chest again, but he caught her wrist and raised his eyebrow. “Kidding, again,” he teased, rolling his eyes and lacing their fingers together. 

“I still have to study,” Avalon pointed out. 

“We can come back to the Room after dinner,” Tom promised.

The trio made their way to the Great Hall, talking and laughing amidst themselves as they walked through the castle. When they made it to their destination, they sauntered over to the Slytherin table, taking a seat at the far end closest to the teachers. Orion wasted no time, stuffing his face with mounds of food before Tom and Avalon even had a chance to fill their plates. 

“How do you eat so much?” she asked him as he shoved his third turkey leg into his mouth. 

“How do you drink so much?” he shrugged, earning a smug grin from Tom and a laugh from her. 

Forty minutes later, Orion had a mortified look on his face as Tom and Avalon tried to force him to admit which one of them he thought was a more powerful wizard. He opened his mouth to try and diffuse their bickering when a high-pitched squeal from the entrance of the Great Hall drew all of their attention. 

Rosalie scurried in, immediately running over to Kyra who was sitting beside Demitri at the other end of the table. The blonde jumped up and down excitedly, shoving her hand toward her roommate who gasped the moment she saw the large, glimmering diamond ring on her finger. Axel strode in not too far behind her, causing both Demitri and Orion to jump out of their seats and run over to their teammate. The moment they caught up to him, they each grabbed one of his legs and hoisted him up onto their shoulders, despite the Seeker’s protests. 

Avalon got up, too, joining Rosalie and Kyra while Tom begrudgingly walked to meet the boys. The moment Rosalie’s eyes landed on Avalon, she twirled around, scurrying over with her roommate following close behind. “Look!” she exclaimed excitedly, a bright smile on her face as she showed off her ring. 

“Congratulations!” Avalon said, giving her a tight hug. “I’m so happy for the two of you.” She had never seen Rosalie look quite so elated as she bounced up and down on the tip of her toes, incapable of standing still for even a moment. 

Tom watched Avalon beam at Greengrass, the three girls all chattering excitedly amidst themselves as they admired the ring Nott had chosen for her. To see Avalon be so thrilled over an engagement was almost surprising to him-- it made him wonder if there was a part of her, deep down, that wasn’t as jaded as she seemed. If even a fraction of her wasn’t afraid of the concept of spending the rest of her life with someone. 

The thought of forever had always been a lonely one for Tom-- but meeting her changed that. He wanted her beside him for all of time. And he had been thinking about it ever since he nearly lost her.

As he put on a plastic smile and congratulated Nott, all he could think about was Avalon. And when she and the other girls eventually joined their group, he couldn’t stop himself from pulling her into his hold and wrapping his arms around her. Because his thoughts made more sense when she was with him.

And at that moment, despite everything going on, everything made sense. 

He knew what he wanted, and it was to be with her forever. 

So, despite the nerves dwelling in the pit of his stomach, he was able to sit through the rest of dinner with the others, knowing that his mind was made up. 

Avalon was too busy speaking with Axel and Rosalie to notice how quiet Tom was until dinner was over and the group all began to part ways. Even Orion left to go find Clara, so they were finally left alone once again. She held onto his hand, a hint of a lingering smile on her lips as she began walking toward the Room of Requirement, but he stopped walking, earning a confused look from her. “I have to grab something from my dorm. I’ll meet you in the Room shortly,” he said. 

“Do you want me to come with-”

“No,” he said, cutting her off. She narrowed her eyes on him, growing wary of his sudden shift in demeanor, so he kissed her forehead, giving her hand a gentle squeeze and watching as her eyes softened once more. “I’ll catch up soon.”

“Alright,” she smiled. “Don’t be long.”

“I’ll be quick,” he replied, his heart skipping a beat when she got on her tip-toes and met his lips in a soft kiss. It was hard to leave her, but he finally pulled himself away and headed over to his dorm.

Avalon strode toward the Room of Requirement. She ran into Zelda and Jane on her way, stopping briefly and chatting with them for a few minutes. News of Axel and Rosalie’s proposal had already made its way around the castle and Zelda wanted all the details. So, after telling her everything she knew, they parted ways and she continued on her journey to the Room, entering it and sitting on the couch with her textbook in her lap. But, despite the quiet in the room, she couldn’t focus her mind. 

She couldn’t stop thinking about marriage-- not necessarily marriage, itself, but rather the concept of committing the rest of your life to one person. It was something that she had never thought she wanted. Not because she didn’t believe that love like that could persist, but because she never thought that she would find someone who could see her and all of her flaws and still see a future with her. She knew that she came with her fair share of skeletons in her closet and the thought of meeting someone who could accept them seemed foreign to her. 

Until she met Tom.

Could she see herself spending the rest of her life with him? It was hard to say with so many variables still in the mix. But, could she see herself spending the rest of her life  _ without _ him? No, she couldn’t. Nor did she want to. 

So, she clung to the hope that everything would turn out okay. That he would trust her enough to tell her all the things he didn’t realize she already knew. That he would be able to make a future for himself that didn’t involve the loss of his own humanity. That he would be the person she hoped he could be, and that would be enough for both of them. 

And perhaps that was naive to hope for, but she didn’t want to think of the alternatives because they scared her too much. 

When the door opened and Tom entered, she looked up to meet his eyes with a smile on her face, but it quickly faded when she noticed how uncharacteristically nervous he looked. “Is everything alright?”

He walked over to the couch, sitting down beside her as he set his book bag on the ground. It wasn’t until he took her hands into his own that he met her gaze. “There’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”

She narrowed her eyes on him, suddenly becoming anxious. “What is it?”

He took in a deep breath, pressing a kiss to her hand before speaking. “Ever since the night of the boggart attack, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about how I almost lost you.” She opened her mouth to assure him that she wasn’t going anywhere, but he quickly kept speaking, his words almost coming out in a rambling mess. “I have never felt this way about anyone before, Avalon. The thought of not having you by my side… I can’t have that.”

“Tom, I’ll always be by your side,” she assured, squeezing his hand. “You never have to worry about that.”

“You don’t understand,” he said, shaking his head. She swore she heard genuine fear in his voice. “Your definition of always is much different than mine.”

“Then help me understand,” she replied. 

He paused a moment, averting his eyes as he rubbed soft circles into her skin with his thumb, a comforting habit he had developed. “I have discovered a way to… create safeguards for my soul,” he said, looking up to meet her eyes. She tried her hardest not to display any of her emotions in her gaze when she listened to him mention his Horcruxes. 

He was finally opening up to her. 

“What do you mean?” she pressed him, trying to get him to tell her everything she needed to hear. It was hard to suppress the way her heart was beating out of her chest-- Tom Riddle was confessing to her that he had Horcruxes. This was what she needed to hear from him. He was admitting to what he had done. 

He was changing. 

“There is a type of magic called Horcruxes,” he said, analyzing her face for any changes in her expression, though she remained rather stoic. “A wizard can place a fragment of their soul into an object for safekeeping… that way, if one part of their soul dies, they have other pieces that can still survive. It is the closest thing to immortality that we can produce.” 

He looked so nervous that she couldn’t help but lift her hand, cupping his cheek and gently stroking his face with her touch. The warmth of her hand seemed to ease his mind a little and he looked into her eyes, trying to see if there were any hints of judgement, but she remained calm and collected.

“Is there a reason you’re telling me this now?” she asked softly. 

She had expected him to admit that he already had made Horcruxes.

She had expected him to say something that would express regret. 

She had expected him to say that he had made a mistake. 

But, she had not expected to hear him say the actual words that left his lips.

“I want you to make one.” 


	53. Chapter 53

“I want you to make one.”

It felt as though the air was sucked right out of her lungs. As if the walls began to cave in on her and the earth stopped spinning. 

_ No, this can’t be happening.  _

She looked at him, her words failing her as he met her eyes with his own. His gaze was nervous, but gentle. Determined, but adoring. The weight of his stare was too much to bear, so she turned her attention to the ground, desperate to escape the reality that met her. 

It pained her to hear those words come out of his mouth. 

He patiently awaited her response, his hands still holding hers as he stroked her skin. But, after several more moments of shock, all she could mutter out was, “What?”

“I know it sounds scary,” he assured, squeezing her hand. “But, I swear to you that I will be there with you every step of the way. We can do this together.”

Every word that left his mouth felt like a vise tightening on her heart. 

He wanted her to make a Horcrux. He wanted her to become immortal with him. He wanted her to  _ kill _ for him.

And she had thought that he had changed.

When her eyes met his once more, he was taken aback by the heartbreak in her stare. His worries only grew when he heard the venom in her voice. “Tell me, Tom… how do you  _ make _ a Horcrux?”

He had expected her to have some resistance to the idea, but he had already played through this conversation a million times in his head. He carefully replied, “The process of splitting one’s soul requires a sacrifice in return.”

“A life,” she said, pulling her hand away from his grasp. “It requires taking a life.”

He reached out and put a hand on her cheek, and she hated herself for not moving away from his touch. “I want to spend my life with you, Avalon. And the only way for that to happen is if you protect your soul the same way I have protected mine,” he said, stroking her skin softly. “We would be unstoppable. The world would be ours. We could mould it to be what we’ve always wanted because you and I would be limitless.”

“I have told you that I am not interested in immortality, Tom,” she said, trying to keep her voice level. A part of her still clung to the hope that perhaps there was a way she could turn this conversation around before it was too late. “Why can’t one lifetime be enough?”

“Being with you makes me worry that even an eternity is too short to love you,” he said. 

_ Love _ . 

“What?” she breathed out, a pained look on her face. 

“I love you.”

She felt her heart shatter into a million pieces at those three words. Three words that she had been dying to hear him say. Three words that were being said at entirely the wrong time. 

He moved a piece of her hair behind her ear, keeping her gaze when he said, “And that is why I cannot lose you.” Slowly, he reached into his book bag and pulled out the one thing that could have made her heart drop more than it already had. 

The diary. 

He gently placed it in her lap before taking her hand back into his, though her hand felt limp in his grasp. The moment her eyes landed on that leather-bound book, her mind was flooded with a looming sense of dread. It knew she was a threat, and it began to protect itself by targeting her mind. She felt sick to her stomach, desperate to get out of that room, but all she could do was stare at the diary as Tom said, “You’ve held all the pieces of my heart for quite some time. Now, you’re holding all the pieces of my soul, too.”

“All the pieces?” she asked, incapable of masking the fear in her voice. 

“The diary and the ring,” he said. 

The ring.

_ It was the fucking ring.  _

The sudden realization made her head spin. It had never been the locket… his second Horcrux had been on her finger this entire time. And she’d had no idea. 

She had been blinded by her love for him. 

Every word that left his lips was an unintentional dagger through her heart. “I know it is a lot to take in, but I swear it isn’t as bad as it sounds. I’ve already made the two and together we could make more. We would never have to worry about losing one another.”

“Why did you have to tell me this,” she whispered under her breath, heartbreak in her voice as she came face to face with the fact that she was currently in possession of the two items she had been seeking since she arrived in this era. 

The second Horcrux sensed her panic, suddenly overwhelming her with its attempt at defending itself. She yelped as the ring began to burn, singing her skin and leaving a glowing red mark on her finger. 

Tom’s eyes widened as he watched her pry it off her finger, throwing it onto the ground hastily as she held onto her scorched finger with horror in her gaze when she met his stare. The diary, still in her hands, was making her grow more and more agitated by the second, her mind swimming with a million mortified thoughts. 

The two pieces of Dark magic in the Room were tearing her apart, their sinister presence overwhelming her very being. They sensed she was a threat-- and they were doing exactly what Tom had created them to do: defending themself from harm. 

She found it harder and harder to remain calm, the Horcruxes blurring the line between her control and her rage. Tom quickly sensed her shift in demeanor, scrambling to find a way to calm her down.

“We can find the man who gave you your scars,” he offered. “You said it yourself, some people are beyond redemption.”

_ Some people are beyond redemption.  _

An incredulous laugh left her lips at the irony of his words. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing-- it was as though the entire facade of her reality was torn down in an instant, revealing nothing but the ugly truth that she had so desperately been trying to avoid: she had fallen in love with Tom Riddle, and he had not changed. Not in the way she needed him to.

He was still a murderer. He was still obsessed with immortality. And he was still the man who would one day be the reason behind the deaths of her loved ones. 

No, he already was the reason. He had always been the reason. She had just tried to forget that. 

That was her own weakness-- and she would pay a price for that great mistake. 

_ He was beyond redemption.  _

She got to her feet and scrambled away from him as she desperately tried to create space between them. But, he followed her movement, taking a step forward. She shook her head, backing away once more. “I will never make a Horcrux, Tom. I would die before doing what you have done.”

When Tom met her eyes, he was taken aback by the gaze that greeted him. She was looking at him as though there was nothing she wanted more than for him to drop dead. 

She hadn’t looked at him like that since the first time they met. 

Hatred. Anger. Disgust. 

But nothing bothered him more than the slight hint of fear. 

“Avalon…” he said quietly as he took another step toward her. 

“Get away from me,” she snarled, still clutching the diary as she backed away. 

“I would never hurt you,” he assured her, hurt flashing across his face that she would ever think differently.

“You made that promise to me already,” she said, her voice pained. “And you just broke it.”

He felt his heart break at her words.

“I love you-”

“Stop saying that!” she shouted, shaking her head. Hearing him say those words to her in his attempt to calm her down felt like a slap in the face to all the time she had spent dreaming of how he would one day finally utter that sacred confession to her. Furious tears began to brim her eyes as she glared at him, her voice breaking when she repeated, “Stop fucking saying that!”

“I mean it-”

“No, you don’t, Tom,” she said, a single tear falling down her cheek. “I have been loved-- the people I left behind loved me dearly and it never caused me pain like this. What you feel isn’t love. Love should not  _ hurt _ . It isn’t possessive. It doesn’t ask for forever,” she said, wiping at her eyes angrily. “What you’re feeling is greed-- for me and for eternity… the whole point of being in love is choosing to fall despite knowing that in the end, you will lose it. But you welcome the pain because love is fleeting, but it’s worth it.”

“But, it doesn’t have to be that way. Why not grasp the chance to love forever?” he asked. “We have the opportunity to be infinite, Avalon. We could be forever.”

“Maybe I don’t  _ want _ forever with you.”

He shook his head, his breathing becoming labored as he tried to calm his racing nerves. “You don’t mean that.”

“Nobody can cheat death, Tom. There is a price to pay and it is your humanity. And that version of you-- that empty, soulless version of you-- I will never love,” she said. 

She spoke with so much venom in her voice that it didn’t sound like she was speaking of hypotheticals… she was speaking from experience. That kind of raw emotion, pure pain in her words… that was not something impersonal. 

Avalon had watched her world be burned to the ground. She had watched her loved ones die. She had lived through her biggest fears and she had come out strong, brave, resilient. 

But staring at him as she came face to face with the daunting realization that he was not who she wanted him to be still broke her down in a way no heartache ever could-- because the pain he caused her went straight through her heart and into the very essence of her soul. 

She couldn’t think straight-- the diary in her hands worked tirelessly to ensure her muddled mind. But, still, her worries flooded her senses, finally forcing her to face the matters she had tried so desperately to avoid.

She could not save him. 

No matter how much she wanted to, no matter how much she loved him, no matter how much she feared losing him… she could not save him from his own paralyzing fear of death.

And as long as he was alive, she could never be sure that he wouldn’t lose his battle to his own demons. Even if she loved him with every last breath of her life, she would one day die-- and he would be left alone in a world where his eternity would be plagued with temptation to succumb to the same sin that had led him to slaughter so many of the people she loved.

_ Inevitable _ .

That was the only word that came to her mind. She feared he was inevitable… that his path to darkness was something she would never be able to change. That in this life and every version of this life, Tom Riddle would fall from grace into sin. Because she could not compare to the love he held for his own immortality. 

He was consumed by his desire to live forever. And she wasn’t enough to change that. 

She would  _ never _ be enough to change that. 

Because no matter how much he desired her, his fear for death would always outweigh all else. The darkness within him would win, time and time again-- and he would lose himself trying to stay alive. 

Her next words were so quiet that he barely heard them-- as though she were saying them more to herself than to him. “I cannot let you go down that path again.”

She couldn’t let him… 

And no matter how much it hurt, she  _ wouldn’t _ let him.

The people she loved had died to protect her. It was time she did the same for them.

Avalon had never feared death before, but as she stood there, she became painfully aware of how she was living her last moments. Because she would burn the whole damn Room to ash and take herself down in flames if it meant stopping Tom from becoming the monster he was destined to be. 

She took in a deep breath, and accepted their end. 

In the blink of an eye, she outstretched her hand, summoning her wand into her grasp. The sudden movement caught him off guard, but he quickly withdrew his own wand, pointing it at her out of nothing but pure instinct. 

“Avalon,” he said cautiously, his eyes filled with a million emotions. “What are you doing?”

For the first time, she heard fear in his voice. 

And that broke her more than she could ever imagine. His wide eyes, frantic as he stared at her with nothing but pure panic in his gaze… it all broke her. 

There was no way to stop the tears from falling down her face. She didn’t bother to try. She let them flow down her cheeks like endless rivers of tormented anguish and desecrated love. As though she could let her pain spill out from her eyes and rid herself of the harrowing feeling that tortured her being. 

In a way, she supposed they  _ would _ be together until the very end. 

What a shame the end was not as she had hoped. 

“I have to do this,” she said, her voice breaking as they stood there, both their wands pointed at one another. She couldn’t meet his eyes for even a moment longer-- she wished he were faceless like the others. But, he wasn’t. 

He wasn’t a blank face in a sea of the dead. He wasn’t a stranger she would never know. He was the one who had stolen her heart, and she couldn’t bear to meet his scared eyes. 

“Look at me, dove,” he said desperately, though she couldn’t listen to him. “Please, just look at me.”

She shook her head, her tears falling onto the floor with every slight movement. When she spoke, he barely heard her, but she didn’t care anymore. In a matter of moments, they would both be nothing more than memories of two people whose love wasn’t enough to save them from their own battles. Her quiet words served no purpose other than reminding herself of what she needed to hear. “I can’t let you hurt them this time.”

“This time?” 

_ Time… _

He stared at the girl before him, his eyes widening as everything clicked into place.

A girl who seemed to appear out of nowhere, never truly fitting in… A girl who hated him with every ounce of her being from the moment she met him… A girl who had no record of her last name, her parents, her lineage… 

Someone who had lost everything to a war he knew nothing about… Someone who had no outside friends or family… Someone who had been tortured by a mysterious man with a mark on his arm that Tom had only ever seen in his own dreams… Someone who kept her secrets hidden as though her life depended on it… 

Avalon Hendrix… the only person he had ever met who seemed to know him better than he knew himself. 

“Where did you come from, Avalon?” he asked, his voice carrying so much hurt that she finally looked up and met his troubled gaze. 

She didn’t answer, her hands trembling as she held her wand in his direction, the diary still in her grasp as she watched the crumbling boy before her. 

Her silence was deafening. And for the first time, he realized how much he hated the silence. 

“Let me rephrase,” he said, his breathing labored. “ _ When _ did you come from?”

More fucking silence.

“ **Answer me!** ” he roared, advancing on her in a sudden lunge that startled her into quickly shying away from him. His eyes flashed red, her heart dropping the moment she came face to face with the momentary glimpse of his future self. 

Because when his eyes turned crimson, she no longer saw Tom.

She saw the wizard who had killed everyone she had ever loved. The inhuman monster who took everything from her… including Tom. 

She clung the diary to her chest, backing away from him in a desperate attempt to get as far away from his crazed anger as possible. The leather-bound book in her grasp made her head spin-- the Dark magic swirling her mind into a melted mess of incoherent thoughts and worries. She found it hard to focus, hard to think, hard to breathe… but she held onto it as though her life depended on it. As though she weren’t preparing to take her own life in a matter of moments. 

And as they stood there, eyes burning with the vision of their greatest fears springing to life, a stranger could look at them and never guess that they had ever been lovers. For they had lost themselves in a second so poisonous that it drowned the memory of a million perfect moments until they were left with nothing but their bleeding hearts. 

He couldn’t stand the resentment in her eyes-- the way she looked at him as though she were face to face with the devil, himself. The way she looked at him as though she had seen his darkest secrets-- knew his true nature. 

He thought of how she had broken into his room within days of meeting him…

How she had immediately targeted his inner circle and become a part of their group…

Lestrange’s warning circled in his mind. 

_ ‘She’s lying to us all… She’s after something… She used Legilimency to go into my mind.’ _

Betrayal. 

That was the only word that came to his mind. 

Lie after lie after lie. It had all been lies. And he had fallen for them. He had fallen for her, for her deceit, for her secrecy. He had allowed her to play with his heart as though it were nothing more than worthless collateral in whatever God-forsaken mission she had come here to fulfill. 

“You’ve been after me this whole time…” he said. “Why?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” she replied, a singular tear falling down her cheek. “Because it all ends now.”

He barely had time to react to the bright flash that bounded out of her wand. 

All he could do was quickly cast his own spell back at her. 

Their magic met in a collision of deep, purple sparks. Dark magic coursed through both of them, their power blending together in an indistinguishable mess of rage. It was impossible to tell where his spell ended and hers began. They were one and the same. 

She felt power surging off him in a wave of undeniable might. The diary in her grasp was messing with her concentration, so she hastily discarded it onto the floor and put both hands on her wand, keeping it steady with his as their magic fought for dominance in the growing space between them. 

Both of their bodies burned with the intensity of the flash before them, their feet uncontrollably dragging backward against the floor as the sheer force of their spells pulled them further and further apart. It was hard to tell who lifted their wand first, but they both broke contact with each other a moment later, the spells pointing to the ceiling and breaking apart the roof above them. 

They clambered away from the falling bricks, their focus momentarily shifting to watch the ceiling above them quickly fix itself, the Room mending everything but their shattered trust. In her moment of stolen attention, he sent a red flash at her. 

She threw up a quick block, bracing herself for the impact, but the power of his spell blew through her shield, throwing her back into the wall behind her-- her wand flying out of her hand at the collision. 

A pained wince left her lips as she extended her hand to summon her wand back, but she watched as it flew through the air and right into his hold, a sinister look in his eyes as his fingers tightened around it. 

Tom was powerful-- that much had never been a secret. But, as his anger consumed him and his strength began to radiate off him like bolts of lightning straight out of a storm, she was forced to remember who he truly was.

Avalon was strong. But Tom was one of the greatest wizards to have ever lived.

He had won the war once.

And as he strode toward her, wand pointed at her, she feared nothing would ever change. And it would all be her fault.

_ Failure.  _

Despite his wand being mere inches from her face, he didn’t cast anything her way. He just stood there, his fervent eyes subduing to a mixture of hurt and betrayal. 

“Was it all a lie?” he asked, his voice clear but broken. 

“Doesn’t matter-”

“Yes, it fucking does, Avalon! Was it all a lie?!”

Desperation dripped off his tone-- as though his lifeline was resting on her answer. In many ways, it was. Because even if he lived through this, he would never feel alive again. Only love had the power to kill him without stopping his heart-- forcing him to live through his pain for all eternity. 

An eternity he had solidified for himself. 

She hated that it hurt her to see the pain written on his face. She hated that watching him break in front of her was tearing her apart, too. And she hated that she was now realizing that there was nothing she could do to make this any easier-- she was not meant to feel okay right now. She was meant to feel the weight of her mistakes as a wave of deep loss. Loss for what they had, loss for what they could have been, loss for what almost was.

“I wish it was,” she said, her voice barely audible. She found herself angry for how pathetic she sounded… because despite it all, she still wanted so badly to have been wrong about him. She wanted so badly to have been enough for him. 

“Then why?” he asked, his wand still pointed at her. “Why are you doing this?! Why were you here?”

He had already put together the answer-- she could tell from the way he was looking at her that he knew. But, he needed to hear it. For his own sake. 

So, she said, “Because I cannot let you go down that path again-- too many lives are at risk. I have seen what you become. Inhuman. Empty. Soulless. A monster. And I cannot allow you to lose yourself to that destiny. Not when there is so much at stake.” She saw his hands begin to shake, the wand trembling in his grasp as he stared at her. “Are you going to kill me, Tom?” she asked, her voice cold. “I know you can. I’m just another person in your way, right?”

He couldn’t stop thinking of what Rosier had said. 

_ ‘In the end, she will only either hate you or die defying you.’ _

“Kill me like the people you used to make your bloody Horcruxes,” she snarled. “Like my friends-- who you and your pathetic followers will one day look in the eyes and murder in cold blood!” She shook her head, tears dripping onto the floor beneath her. “You promised you’d never hurt me and I knew that was a lie because you already had. Time and time again, you will always hurt me.” 

He shook his head, trying to block out her words, but her pained laughter rang through his ears like a harrowing battle cry. “You want me to use the man who gave me my scars to create a Horcrux?” She wiped at her eyes furiously, her voice breaking when she spoke, “He was following  _ your _ orders.” 

Tom felt his chest tightening as his breathing came out in rapid gasps for oxygen. The walls felt like they were caving in on him, suffocating him as though the room were filling with poison. A daunting realization came to him in that moment: Avalon had always known his secrets. 

For so long, he had feared what would happen if she learned of the things he had been hiding from her. Of his past, of his plans, of his sins…

But, she had known all along. And not only did she know his secrets, she knew his future. A future that he had dreamed of for years— an apparent leader, powerful and with a legion of followers who listened to his every command. Yet, knowing he—or whatever version of him she knew— was responsible for all the pain and suffering she had endured… he felt sick to his stomach. 

And, yet, she had still found a way to love him. She had looked the devil in the eyes and not been afraid. She had come face to face with his demons and still brought light into his life. Because she was forgiveness, and she was light. Everything beautiful he knew about the world, he had learned through her love. Because despite his faults, despite his mistakes, despite his vices-- she had made room in her heart to care for someone like him. 

And he had still managed to ruin it. 

Looking at the girl before him, hazel eyes brimmed with tears that wept the remnants of her broken heart, he couldn’t stomach the pain in her gaze. 

Every ounce of logic in him knew that sparing her life would be his own damnation-- perhaps love  _ was _ weakness, but in that moment, he knew he could never again feel strength if she were missing from his side. 

Lestrange and Rosier’s words faded to nothingness, replaced by Avery’s echoing voice:

_ ‘Losing her will be the greatest mistake of your life.’ _

And as he looked at the girl he loved, her eyes windows into a broken heart, he knew that Avery’s words would always be right.

Slowly, he lowered his wand. 

“I can’t lose you, dove,” he said quietly.

There were tears in her eyes, but it didn’t mask the bravery in her gaze. She stared at him with the strength of a thousand burning fires, her watch steadfast and bold. It worried him. Those were the eyes of a warrior bracing for her end. 

“Then I suppose we will be together until the very end,” she said, raising her hand and summoning her wand into her grasp. Her wand flew out from his hands, landing right back into the palm of her own. Before he could even begin to register what she was doing, she pointed it at him and threw his body back, sending a disarming spell moments later. His wand was tossed to the ground, and she quickly advanced toward him, her hands trembling as she aimed at his chest. 

Sparks of fire flew out from her wand as she looked between him, the diary, and the ring. His eyes widened-- those weren’t just any flames coming out of her wand. 

She was preparing to use Fiendfyre. 

“Avalon, don’t do this,” he pleaded, his voice frantic. “Look at me, please.”

But, she couldn’t. She wouldn’t. Because if she looked at him, she’d be forced to come face to face with the eyes of the man she loved-- the man she couldn’t save. 

She had wanted so desperately to be the one who could change his path-- save him from his own destruction. But, she realized that she had only been prolonging the inevitable. 

Tom Riddle was a danger. To himself, to her, to her loved ones, to the future. 

And there was only one way out now. 

More sparks flew out of her wand as she braced herself for what was to come. It was an odd feeling-- to know death was coming. She wasn’t afraid. She should have been, but she wasn’t. It wasn’t fear that drove her hands to tremble-- it was disappointment that she hadn’t been able to do what she wished she was capable of: saving the man she loved. 

Because at that moment, it was a matter of saving him or saving the future. And with the weight of the world resting atop her shoulders, visions of the fallen swam before her eyes. 

Harry. 

She thought of Harry. 

How he had given his life in an attempt to save the others… how her life was owed to the sacrifices of those who gave everything to spare the others. And she had to now do the same for them. 

But, she thought of Tom. 

The only person who had ever seen the darkest aspects of her and accepted them. The only person who saw her flaws as virtues. The only person who saw beauty in her scars and strength in her mistakes. 

She would be his downfall. 

At the end of his life, Tom Riddle would have stolen four lives. 

Avalon Hendrix... five. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice shaking as tears poured down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”

He tried to take a step forward, but the frantic look in her eyes warned him not to. He stopped, holding his hands up for her to see he was not trying to fight back. “You don’t have to do this.”

“This is the only way I can know for certain that you won’t hurt them,” she said, shaking her head. 

“I don’t know what you’ve seen-- what version of me you’ve dealt with-- but I would never do anything to hurt you or the people you care about. You have to believe me.”

“I want to believe you… I just can’t afford any more risks, Tom,” she replied, her words strained. “I’m so… s-sorry.”

“I’m sorry for the pain I have caused you,” he said, desperation in his voice. “But, if you do this, we both die. And I cannot be the reason for your death, Avalon. I can’t be.”

“I’m not afraid-”

“Do you know what my boggart was?” he asked, cutting her off. He saw a flash of confusion in her bloodshot eyes, so he kept speaking. “It was you dying. Because of me. I won’t let that happen. I can’t. I love you-”

“Stop saying that-”

“I love you,” he repeated, taking a cautious step toward her. She kept her wand pointed at him, but she didn’t stop his movement. “I love you more than I thought any heart could ever love another. And I’m sorry that I haven’t done enough to make you believe me and I’m sorry that you think this is the only way out. But, please, Avalon,” he said, stepping closer again. “Please, don’t do this.”

He saw her resolve waver for a moment and took the opportunity to keep speaking. “I wish that I was who you wanted me to be. But I know that I am flawed. I’m arrogant. I let the ghosts of my past dictate the course of my future. I believe my emotions make me weak and find myself shutting them off because of that. I have become so accustomed to loneliness that I push people away if I fear they are getting too close to me. I have viewed people as pawns for as long as I have lived. And I am selfish. So selfish that I want to prove to you that I can be who you deserve-- because no matter what it is I have to do, it’s worth salvaging what we have. So fucking selfish that I cannot fathom the thought of being the reason someone like you suffers the same end that I rightfully deserve. Because you are good. You care about so many people even though your heart has been tested time and time again. You are the strongest person I have ever met in every sense of the word and you don’t deserve to have your story end because I have tainted your path with mine.” He took another step forward, until her wand was placed right by his chest. “Loving you was the beginning of me. Please do not let loving me be the end of you.”

It was hard to look at her and know that he was the reason for her pain-- past and present. He knew that he had made his fair share of unforgivable mistakes in his life, but somehow, seeing the look of pure heartbreak in her eyes was what he regretted the most. He had failed her. And as she stood before him, wand trembling in her hands, he truthfully didn’t much care if she killed him. Because the way she was looking at him made him fear that she would never love him, and that tore the life out of his body and made him a corpse of his past one way or another. 

When she finally spoke, her voice was so frail that he barely heard her. “I hate you,” she said, tears streaming down her face. “I hate you... because no matter what I know I have to do, I can’t stop loving you.” With shaky fingers and choked sobs, she lowered her wand. “I wish I could make you the enemy. But my love is my weakness, and I can’t do this.”

_ Love is weakness.  _

She stared at her violently trembling hands and felt disgusted at herself. Disgusted for not being able to do what she had been sent here to do. For letting her heart stop her mind. For failing herself, him, her loved ones. 

She was a failure. 

He began to take a step closer to her, outstretching his arms to pull her into his hold, but she quickly backed away, suddenly feeling as though the oxygen in the room were running thin. 

“Avalon-”

She turned away, running out the door and slamming it behind her as she scrambled to get away from him. From her failure. From her weakness. From her realization that she was exactly what she had always feared she would be. 

_ A fucking traitor.  _


	54. Chapter 54

Avalon scrambled out the door, her vision blurred behind her falling tears as she bolted down the hall, desperate to get as far away from that bloody room as possible. 

_ Traitor. Traitor. Traitor. Traitor.  _

_ An absolute fucking traitor.  _

She couldn’t breathe. Her lungs felt as though they were filling up with poison every time she took in a breath, her harrowing sobs raking through her body as she sprinted toward the castle’s exit. 

Fresh air. 

She needed fresh air. 

The hallways were empty, most students having retreated to their dorms for the evening. But as she ran through the isolated corridors, her eyes were plagued by visions of her past. Memories of how bodies had been scattered all along the ground, discarded into motionless heaps everywhere she looked. Eyes that would never see again, hearts that would never beat again-- infinite casualties of a war that ravaged through the very place she had called home for so much of her life. Everywhere she looked, she saw the lingering reminders of those who had died in those very halls. Those who had given their lives fighting in a war to protect the innocent. Those who she had betrayed. 

_ Traitor _ .

She shoved past the castle’s entrance, running outside until the cool night air flooded her lungs and she could finally let her sobs echo through the silence. 

_ Silence _ . 

She fucking  _ hated _ the silence. 

Nobody was around, but she wouldn’t have cared even if people had seen. Because it didn’t matter anymore-- none of it mattered. She had failed. When all was said and done, she couldn’t bring herself to kill Tom Riddle. 

He was her greatest weakness. 

She stumbled away from the door, her feet carrying her around the perimeter of the castle until she couldn’t walk any further. She slumped against the wall and slowly slid down onto the ground, her shoulders shaking as she let out all her anguish and desperation. 

It hurt. Everything hurt. And what hurt the most was that the pain wasn’t physical-- it was much deeper. It felt as though her very soul had been ripped apart. And there was no healing spell or potion that could do anything to help her. 

Loving him was the most painful form of self-destruction. 

And yet she fell for it time and time again because  _ that _ was precisely what love is. Vulnerability. Accepting the heartache because the alternative is unfathomable. Falling-- time and time again-- no matter how battered and bruised she became. Her heart was his and no matter how much she wished she could take it back, it was no longer hers to protect. 

She had never quite realized how intertwined she had been with him until the moment came for her to have to let go of him. It was impossible. Because despite everything, they were one in the same. The same bleeding heart, the same broken soul, the same selfish love. 

“Ava?” 

Orion peaked his head out from around the corner, his eyes widening when he saw the broken girl before him. Having said goodbye to his own girlfriend just ten minutes prior, he had been waiting around the greenhouses to ensure nobody would see him and Clara walk back together. But, Avalon’s sobbing was the last thing he had expected to hear on his trip back to his dorm. 

He ran over, quickly sitting down beside her and wrapping his arms around her trembling figure. “Shh,” he whispered, holding her tightly to his chest, resting his chin atop her head. “You’re okay. It’s going to be okay.”

“No it w-won’t,” she cried out, shaking her head. “N-not this time.”

“Of course it will be,” he insisted, though seeing her crying in his arms… he knew this was different than any time before. She wasn’t sad, she wasn’t hurt-- she was destroyed. 

“No, Orion,” she said. “You don’t understand…”

“Then help me understand,” he said, looking into her eyes. “Please.”

She opened her mouth to speak before closing it once more, her frustration streaming down her tear-stained cheeks. “I can’t…” she said under her breath. “I can’t. You would never look at me the same.”

He gently wiped away one of her tears with his thumb. “Avalon, there is nothing you could say to me that would make me think any less of you. I promise.”

And, at that point, she couldn’t hold it in a moment longer. So she took in a deep breath… and told him everything. 

About where she was from. About what the world had been like. About the war. About Tom’s future. About her mission. About the Horcruxes. About what had just happened in the Room of Requirement. Everything. 

She watched as his expression changed throughout her explanation, shifting from confusion to shock to a blank slate. He didn’t speak a word the entire time, just listened to her as she spilled out every last detail about the life she had left behind, and the severity of what she had just done. 

When she finished, he remained quiet-- a solemn look strewn across his features as he stared down at the floor. She felt the weight of her guilt come crashing down as she saw the expression on his face.

A few more moments passed, the silence ripping through her heart until he finally said, “I’m so sorry.”

Her brows furrowed. “Pardon?”

Slowly, he moved his gaze up to meet hers, his eyes softening when he looked at her. “Ava, I’m so sorry that you’ve been carrying all of this on your shoulders for so long with nobody to confide in.”

It was something about the look on his face-- the gentle, forgiving, understanding look on his face-- that made her break down into tears again. Because for the first time, she had finally been able to confess the whole truth to someone, and instead of judgement or condemnation, she was met with acceptance. As if he didn’t view her as a vile murderer, as if her past wasn’t lingering over her head like a constant reminder of the lives she had taken, as if she wasn’t the traitor she thought herself to be. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” he quietly said, leaning forward to wrap his arms around her trembling shoulders. “You’re going to be okay. You are, without a single doubt in my mind, the strongest person I have ever met-- both in skill and spirit. And you will get through this-”

“Orion, I’m scared,” she said, her voice breaking. “Not strong, nor brave-- just really fucking afraid that… it’s all over. Afraid that I messed up and the future will be exactly as I left it and it will all be my fault… and I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Being afraid doesn’t make you weak, it makes you human,” he said gently. “I can’t tell you what to do. That’s a decision only you can make, and I know you’ll make the right one. But I will be here for you no matter what you choose to do. Your heart will lead you in the right direction.”

“My heart no longer knows what to think,” she replied quietly, shaking her head. Her next words came out so quiet that he barely heard them-- as though she were confessing a sin. “I love him, Orion. So much that it hurts.”

“Love is never easy,” he said, his words loaded with thoughts of his own beloved. “But for the right person, it can be worth it. Only you can decide if he’s the right person, though.”

She sighed, wiping away a tear as she stared at the ground before them. “I just fear there’s no way out, now. Either I kill him, ending my own life in the process, or I’m stuck here. I don’t have another time turner, I can’t get back to my own home, and even if I do, what if nobody remembers me? What if the things I’ve changed here have already shifted the future?” Her voice was ridden with fear. As if her mask of ever-present bravery had finally fallen, leaving behind a girl who was mortified of the reality she was living. 

He bit the inside of his cheek, thinking to himself for a moment before he spoke again. “This is a colossal mess,” he said, earning a dejected laugh from her. “But, I am here for you unconditionally. We can figure this out together, okay? You are not alone in this anymore.”

Those words felt as though they lifted a burden straight off her heart. 

_ Friendship _ .

She often took it for granted-- but it saved her time and time again. 

And as they sat there, the cool night air hitting their skin as Orion kept telling her everything would be okay, she found herself somehow tricking herself into believing him. 

Orion didn’t know how much time they spent outside, but he didn’t mind in the slightest. Avalon had grown to be like a sister to him-- he’d do anything to make sure she was okay. Watching her sit with him, tears streaming down her face as she spilled all the burdens that had been bestowed upon her shoulders… he knew he’d do anything he could to ease her mind if even in the slightest. 

He held her until her shoulders stopped shaking and until her tears stopped flowing. At that point, he offered to walk her back to Ravenclaw Tower. She was reluctant at first, but he finally convinced her that she needed rest. Though, he also promised to make sure to stop by her room the next morning to check up on her. 

He dropped her off, reminded her that the things she had told him made him think no differently of her, and then began his journey back to his own dorm. In his own isolation, his thoughts began to race. 

Everything made sense, in a very twisted way. 

He had always known that Riddle was cruel-- that much had never been a secret. Though, Orion had thought, perhaps naively, that it was nothing more than his character. He thought that Riddle’s talents made him arrogant-- nothing more, nothing less. He had no idea how much worse it had truly been. 

In a way, it all did come together. He now understood why Lestrange and Rosier seemed to bow to his every wish and will throughout the years-- it wasn’t just friendship. It was loyalty. They didn’t just look up to him, they followed him. 

It made him feel sick to his stomach-- that he had been surrounded, for so long, by such darkness and had never even an inkling of doubt. His ability to see the best in people had left him oblivious to the horrors that were being committed right underneath his nose. 

Slowly, he made his way back into Slytherin’s common room and toward his dorm, his thoughts still muddled with the realization that he had never known any of the people who had surrounded him for years now. 

His feet dragged him all the way to his room, his fingers grasping the door handle loosely as he shoved it open and walked inside. To be entirely honest, he wasn’t surprised to see Riddle pacing back and forth next to his bed, but he was a little unsettled. 

When Tom saw him walk in, his eyes met Orion’s. And, despite everything he now knew about the dark-haired Prefect, Orion still found himself pitying the drained boy before him. He looked a mess, as though his whole world had been ripped out from beneath his feet. And, in a sense, Orion supposed that much of it had been.

With one look at Orion, Tom felt his heart sinking when he was met with the slight fear in the optimist’s eyes. He quietly said, “She told you, didn’t she?”

Orion nodded and Tom’s face fell. He felt almost… ashamed. Something about the way Orion was looking at him made the realization of his faults come right into the light. He had made many mistakes, many of them unforgivable, but had gotten away with them-- oftentimes even praised for them-- until now. 

He had been surrounding himself with people who agreed with the twisted ideologies that he had indoctrinated and never once felt the consequences of his actions. To see disappointment-- from Avery, nonetheless-- made him feel sick to his own stomach. 

“I think I lost her for good this time,” Tom said quietly, his voice filled with regret. 

Orion found it hard to believe that the same broken boy before him was the person Avalon had come here to kill-- the person who, apparently, would one day become a Dark Lord responsible for countless innocent deaths. 

Had he learned this months prior, it would not have surprised him. But, Riddle had changed. Denying that was futile. The boy was far from perfect, still strewn with a million flaws, but he was different from the person he had been prior to Avalon. 

She made him better. 

“She is far too good for you,” Orion said. “She is everything that you have never been: kind, loving, selfless…  _ good _ .” He watched Tom carefully, making sure his words didn’t receive too much of a bad reaction-- though Riddle was far too tired to fight. “And yet, somehow, she still finds room in her heart to love you. Despite everything, she cares for you. And the more I learn about all that she has forgiven you for, the less I understand how she still manages to see the good in you. But, she does. And I’m telling you right now that you will  _ never _ find someone like her again.”

“I know,” Tom said. “And I can’t bear the thought of losing her but-”

“But, what?” Orion asked, cutting him off abruptly. “Loving and losing go hand in hand, Riddle. You can’t let your fear of losing her drive you to insanity.” He paused for a moment, shaking his head. “You don’t get to use love as an excuse to cheat death… you don’t get to just… break the laws of nature-- destroy the balance of it all-- and get to keep her, too. You can’t have everything. Nobody-- not you, nor I-- can have it all. You’ve taken from the universe-- desecrated the sanctity of life, itself. And until you return what you’ve stolen and accept that all things must end-- even you, even her-- you will never be able to have her. And you’ll never deserve her, either.”

“I can’t lose her,” Tom said under his breath. “I almost did with the boggart. I can’t have that happen again.”

Orion’s voice rose in volume, “You don’t think I’m scared of losing Clara? You don’t think I wake up every bloody morning afraid that our secret will get out and she’ll be in harm’s way? Merlin, I am so fucking sick and tired of you coming up with excuse after excuse in regards to why you and Avalon shouldn’t be together. She loves you and you love her. Why can’t that just be enough for you?!”

“It’s more complicated than that-”

“Complicated? I can’t even hold my girlfriend’s hand in public without fearing for her safety, Riddle! And you want to tell me about something  _ complicated _ ?!” he shouted, his frustration taking over. “You have no idea how easy you have it. I would do  _ anything _ to be able to date the love of my life the way you can. And you have the nerve to try and make it seem like your love is hard?” 

“I love her more than anything,” Tom admitted, sadness in his eyes. “I want to be who she needs. I just…” his words trailed off as he thought about the kind of person Avalon deserved. He couldn’t be further from it. 

“I swear, if I had my way, Ava would be miles away from you so she could  _ finally _ find some goddamn  _ peace _ in her life. But for whatever reason, she loves you. So much that she has done everything in her power to make this work. And, now, it’s your turn. Bury it, Riddle. She has given you the chance to bury it  _ all _ . Your past, your mistakes, your future. She has practically buried it for you and planted flowers on the soil. Stop clinging to who you used to be and what you used to fear. That version of you is dead-- replaced by the one she has helped you become. Forget him and just love her. Love her for as long as you have left and be satisfied you got the chance to love her at all. Because one lifetime with her is worth infinitely more than an eternity alone.” He paused for a moment, his brows furrowed as he paced back and forth. “It’s not too late to change, Riddle. You cannot undo what you have already done, but you can make sure that from this moment on, you commit to living a life that is worthy of her presence. A good life-- one that doesn’t involve immortality, or Dark magic, or any more pain, hurt… any more death. And maybe-- just maybe-- if you do that, she will  _ consider _ forgiving you and you two can salvage this.”

Tom knew that every word that Orion had said was true. He no longer felt the need to fight against the truth-- he knew he had to be better for her. And he knew that he couldn’t live without her. 

So, he looked at Orion and said, “Thank you,” before making his way to the door and walking out. 

His breathing was still labored and his eyes still frantic, but when he saw Lestrange and Rosier standing in the hallway, he did his best to remain calm. They both stared at him with animosity in their eyes, though he paid them no mind. They were not his concern at the moment. So, instead, he walked to his own room and shut the door behind him, leaving himself isolated in the quiet of his dorm. 

Slowly, he made his way over to his bedside table, opening up the drawer to see his ring and the diary neatly placed within. After his fight with Avalon, he had run back to his room to put them back where they belonged, but staring at them now, he only grew angry. It was as though they were taunting him. 

He hated them. 

He hated that they were the reason he had ruined things with Avalon. He hated that they were what was keeping him from being with her. He hated that they would always be nothing more than a detriment to his relationship with the one person he loved more than life itself. 

Because he knew now that if he had to choose between life and love-- his decision would always be Avalon. Every damn time. 

Staring at the Horcruxes made him feel sick. The entire room began to feel as though it were caving in on him-- as though oxygen was running out within those four walls. He tried to remain calm, but he couldn’t. Not as long as they were still there mocking him.

So, he made his way back out of his dorm, ignored Lestrange and Rosier still in the hall, and tried to get as far away from that bloody room as possible. 

Fresh air. 

He just needed some fucking fresh air. 

To clear his thoughts… to clear his mind… to think of her. 

And to prepare for what he knew he would have to do. 


	55. Chapter 55

“What is the spell for amplifying?” 

“Sonorus,” Zelda replied. 

Avalon nodded, putting Zelda’s Charms flashcard on the table before looking at the next one in the pile. “Banishing spell?”

“Depulso,” answered her roommate. 

“Color-changing charm?”

“Colovaria!”

“You’re going to do great,” Avalon said, handing Zelda the completed stack of flashcards. 

Avalon had come back to their room two nights ago with tear-stained cheeks and a runny nose, but had done her best to put on a smile and pretend everything was alright. It appeared as though her acting skills were sub-par, though, as her roommate began immediately prying to figure out what Tom had done that time. 

Still, Avalon thought it best to keep the details of her fight with Tom a secret. Telling Orion had already been enough of a risk-- one that she found herself nervously questioning from time to time. So, she did her best to mask her pain when around Zelda. 

It was horrifically obvious that her roommate didn’t buy her feigned happiness, but Zelda still chose to drop the issue and instead focused on keeping Avalon preoccupied. Whether it was by asking for help studying for her Charms quiz, or talking about the latest castle gossip, or trying-- and failing-- to teach Avalon how to knit, Zelda did everything she could to make sure her roommate had as little time to think about her sadness as possible. 

And, sometimes, it worked. There were moments when Avalon’s pain subsided and she found herself genuinely laughing along with her roommate. There were even times when she forgot the fight even happened. 

It almost felt so surreal that a part of her wondered if she had made it all up. 

But, one look at her finger-- skin still singed from the burn of the Horcrux turning against her-- and she knew that it had all been real. Not a dream, not a nightmare, not a figment of her own imagination. Just a harsh reality that was feeding off her sorrow. 

She hadn’t seen him since their fight. 

Granted, most of her time was spent in her room. There was very little desire within her to run into him, so she made sure to avoid leaving unless absolutely necessary. 

Truthfully, she had no idea what she was going to do next. 

She wanted to go home. To see her friends, to be with her aunt, to forget this entire mess. But, she had started to come to terms with the reality that the ‘home’ she wanted to return to might never exist again. 

It was impossible to know how much of the future would have changed because of her being in the past-- especially now that she had failed her mission. There was a horrible fear in her that not only had she ruined the chance of fixing the future, but she may have also lost the one she had grown up in.

And, regardless of that fact, she still also had no way of returning to the future. With no time turner and no plan, she was left at a dead-end. 

A part of her entertained the thought of staying in this time. Here she had friends like Zelda, Orion, and Clara… they had turned this era into a second home and she’d be lying if she said that the thought of leaving them behind didn’t hurt her spirits. 

She hadn’t thought that she’d find people that she would care for so deeply, but here she was. It appeared as though Tom was not the only person she had grown attached to. The thought of leaving her friends behind made her heart sink deeper into her chest-- a rather unpleasant feeling that only left her feeling more uncertain about the looming future. 

Nothing felt certain anymore. The promise of tomorrow felt like a lie and she was constantly aware of how her charade was coming to an end. It felt as though her own lies were catching up to her and her failure would swallow her whole. 

No plan. No ideas. Nothing. 

_ Traitor _ .

The sound of tapping on their window grabbed both Zelda and Avalon’s attention. 

Avalon sluggishly rolled out of bed, walking over to the window and pulling back the curtain to see Orion hovering outside on his broomstick. A wide grin found its way onto his face and he mouthed ‘can I come in’ before Avalon lightly laughed and opened up the window. 

He threw himself gracelessly in through the entrance, landing on the floor with a ‘thud’ and a laugh. “Good morning!”

“Hello,” smiled Avalon as she closed the window behind him. 

“Morning,” Zelda called out with a chuckle. 

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything too important,” Orion said, rubbing his neck as he tossed his broom to the side. 

“I was actually going to head out and see Jane for a little while,” Zelda replied. “Will the two of you be alright if I head off-”

“Go have fun,” Avalon said, earning a smile from her roommate. 

“Alright, I’ll see you both later,” Zelda said, waving as she grabbed her bookbag and headed out to the hall. 

When the door closed behind her, Orion turned back to Avalon, his features softening as he stared at her for a moment. “How are you feeling?”

She shrugged. “Less sad, more lost. It’s hard to not feel a bit… hopeless, I suppose.”

“I said it before and I will say it again: everything will be okay one way or another,” he said, standing up and slowly making his way to her bed and patting the space beside him. She sat down beside him before he spoke again. “I have no doubt in my mind that you’ll do the right thing. Whatever that may be.”

“Sometimes I fear you may have too much faith in me,” she laughed sadly, shaking her head. 

“I think it’s quite justified,” he replied, looking down at the ground. “Listen… Ava. I don’t want to tell you what to do. Because that is a decision only you can make. But, I want you to know that you do have a choice. And I want you to do whatever will make you the happiest.” 

She watched as he dug his hand into his pocket, fishing around for a moment before taking in a deep breath and slowly pulling out a small, golden time-turner. 

Her breath hitched in her throat the moment her eyes landed on the trinket in his grasp. “Orion… oh my-”

“I was thinking about what I would want if I were in your situation… and…” his words trailed off for a second. “... Ava, I want you to stay here. I do. But, I also want you to have the option of going back to your own home.”

“How did you-”

“I snuck off the grounds last night and went home because I remembered my father had this old prototype of a turner in his office. All the others are locked up in his department of the Ministry. It’s rather old technology-- it can’t go backwards, only to the future. And I reckon it’ll only be able to be effective once-- don’t think it’ll handle more than a single use. But, I thought it was better than nothing,” he said, taking a hold of her hand and placing the time-turner into her palm. 

She shook her head, a sudden feeling of worry overtaking her. “No, I can’t. I can’t take this… won’t you get in trouble if you’re caught by your father?”

“He won’t notice it’s gone,” he shrugged. “The thing’s been collecting dust for years. It’s nothing more than another one of his antiques that he forgets about…” He paused for a moment, his eyes clouded with the vision of his own thoughts. “You don’t have to use it, but at least you have the choice.”

She couldn’t look away from it. It was right there, in the palm of her hands. 

A means to go back home. 

_ ‘At least you have the choice.’ _

Avalon hadn’t chosen to live through a war. She hadn’t chosen to be forced into hiding. She hadn’t chosen to come back to this time. And she hadn’t chosen to fall in love with Tom. 

They were all things that were out of her control. 

Many things felt that way to her. She oftentimes found herself wishing that she could just close her eyes and return to normalcy. A life before the war, a life before the pain, a life before… him. 

Now she had a way to leave. 

A way to go home, a way to escape, a way to leave this entire mess behind. 

But, could she?

She wanted to. More than anything, she wanted to. She wanted to believe that she could go back to her own time and be greeted by a peaceful world-- one that had never known the darkness of Lord Voldemort. She wanted to believe that she could go back and not fear for what Tom would do without her. 

What  _ would _ he do without her?

She didn’t know. 

She wanted to believe that his path had already diverged from becoming the Dark Lord. Because in more ways than she could count, he had changed. 

Just not enough to  _ be _ enough. 

But, could she risk it?

She didn’t know. 

She didn’t fucking know. 

Staring at the little trinket in her hands, she couldn’t help but not worry about any of that because, for the first time since arriving, she now had a way to go back. 

Orion sensed her hesitation and quietly said, “If you do choose to go back, I’ll keep an eye on him… make sure he doesn’t lose himself to the dark.” Her eyes shot up, meeting his as he offered a bittersweet smile before nudging her on the shoulder. “And maybe once you’re back, you can visit Clara and me in our nursing home.”

Tears started brimming her eyes, but for once, they weren’t out of pain. 

All she could do was throw her arms around his shoulders and give him a tight hug, her tears trickling down her cheek as she whispered, “Thank you… so much.”

He smiled to himself, holding her closer as he rubbed her back. He could feel her happiness as though it were his own-- the same way his heart ached when hers did. The thought of her leaving and going back to her own time hurt him more than he was prepared to deal with, but he couldn’t imagine what it felt like for her to be separated from all that she knew and those that she loved. So, he bit down his sadness and hugged her as though it might be one of their last. 

The sound of her sniffles made him pull back, forcing a smile onto his lips as he wiped away her tears with his thumb and shook his head. “None of that, okay? This is a good thing,” he said, watching as she tried to smile back-- though she failed miserably. Slowly, he stood up, walking toward the door. “Now get out of bed and get dressed. I’ll be back with breakfast, alright?”

And with a half-hearted laugh, she nodded, watching as he waved and left while she tried not to think about the decision she would soon have to make. 

\-------

Tom sat at the Slytherin table at dinner, his eyes locked on the entrance of the Great Hall. 

He knew that she wouldn’t show up, but he still wished that she would.

All he did was think about her: how he wished she was there beside him, how he realized she was the sun that kept his universe alight, how he worried her nightmares would keep her up at night, how he missed waking up and pulling her closer to him...

It had been over two days since he had even seen her. The weekend seemed to last forever, each second dragging on like an eternity. 

He found himself growing more and more aware of the fact that he could hardly stand two days without her. To live a million lifetimes without her sounded like a punishment rather than an aspiration. Immortality was a curse if it was spent alone. 

There wasn’t a moment that ticked by where he wasn’t afflicted by the memory of how she had looked at him when he had asked her to make a Horcrux. With hatred. With betrayal. With heartache. 

He didn’t think he’d ever be able to get that look out of his mind.

Losing her to his own selfishness was the hardest lesson he had ever had to learn. And he needed to make things right-- because she was his future. Without her, there was no dream, no solace, no nothing. Without her, there was only what he used to be: empty.

The stabbing ache in his heart was, without a doubt, the most painful thing he had ever been forced to live through-- but he would still choose that feeling over the numbness that he had existed within before he met her. 

It was her. It would always be her. 

The worst part was that he wasn’t sure if she’d ever look at him the same. He feared that he may have lost her forever. And in the end, it was his own love for her that tarnished her trust for him-- it was his desire to hold her close that drew her away. Because his fear of losing her was what drove her to leave and he couldn’t fathom the fact that she had slipped through his fingers so soon after he had learned what love ever was. 

He was still learning. And he’d keep learning until he became what she deserved. Because even if she never looked his way again, he knew that his eyes were meant only for her. Until the end of time, his heart would be hers. 

The food before him was nauseating-- he had no appetite and the cheerful chatter all around him was making his head spin. So, he stood up and walked briskly out the door. The world felt as though it were nothing more than a blur-- faceless people, muted conversations, and intangible happiness.

His feet carried him all the way back to the Slytherin dorms. He was a stranger to time-- one moment he was in the halls, the next bumping into someone as he walked absentmindedly toward his room, and then he was placing his hand on his doorknob, shoving his way into his bedroom.

A feeling of dread overtook him the moment he walked in. Lingering doubt, irrevocable irritation, and a harrowing sense of desolation that washed over him like a tidal wave, crashing over him and drowning him within their misery. 

Reluctantly, he strode toward his bedside table. 

His fingers gripped the drawer, opening it up and revealing his two greatest mistakes. 

He took a hold of the ring, wincing when he felt it immediately burn his skin upon his touch. The pain was so intolerable that he quickly shoved it into his pocket, desperate to get it out of his grasp as quickly as possible. 

Then, his eyes fell upon the diary. It sat there, crooked in the drawer, as though it were mocking him. Taunting him. Testing him. 

His heart was beating faster than ever before, his hands uncharacteristically trembling as he reached out and took that god-forsaken diary into his hold. 

In a way, he found it ironic. Never in a million years did he think his own soul would be fighting against himself. Warding him away to protect its own lifeline. 

He tried his hardest to ignore the deep pit that had formed in his chest. Giving in to the fear that the Horcruxes created would do him no good, so he bit it back and focused on the only thing he knew could get him through this: Avalon.

The thought of her laugh, her smile, her eyes, her skin, her everything. The thought of her. 

It eased his mind a little-- just enough to remind him of what he had to do. 

Without another moment of hesitation, he headed out of his room and toward the second floor of the castle. 

Meanwhile, Avalon sat atop her bed, staring at the time-turner in front of her. 

The entire day had passed by with her mind circling the same several thoughts: she could leave. She could go home. Her  _ real _ home. 

She could try and move on with her life. Try and forget about the mess that she had made here. Return where she belonged and attempt to salvage what she had lost. 

Maybe Tom had changed enough to divert his path from becoming Lord Voldemort. And maybe Orion could keep an eye on him. Perhaps she never had to kill him at all-- what if all he really needed was someone who could push him toward the light?

She took the turner into her hands, staring at the golden relic with a forlorn look in her eyes. Her thumb traced the dial, wanting more than anything to push it forward and return to the life she longed for. 

She looked around her dorm, a bittersweet smile finding its way onto her lips. Despite all odds, she had found a second home in this time. She had found a second home within Orion, within Zelda, within Clara… and a beautifully catastrophic haven with Tom. 

When she heard footsteps approaching, she quickly shoved the time-turner into her book bag a moment before Zelda strode into their dorm. 

Avalon forced a smile and pushed her thoughts to the back of her mind. Because no matter how tempting it was to go back home, she knew that as long as Tom still had his Horcruxes, she would never be able to leave in good conscience. That wasn’t a risk she would allow herself to take. 

“So, I was studying with Jane for a while,” Zelda said, tossing her books onto her desk before leaning against her chair and staring at Avalon. “And I began to head back here when I saw Riddle… he looked rather… stressed? So, I sort of… snuck after him for a little bit-”

“You stalked him?” Avalon asked, a half-hearted laugh escaping her lips. 

“Any good friend would have!” Zelda protested, throwing her hands up in the air. “But, I saw him go into the second-floor girl’s bathroom...”

“The abandoned one?” Avalon asked, narrowing her eyes. 

Zelda nodded. “I, obviously, found it a bit strange. I didn’t follow him in-- figured he’d see me if I tried. But I thought I’d let you know.” 

An overwhelming sense of dread overtook Avalon as she thought about reasons why Tom may be returning to the same bathroom in which he murdered Myrtle Warren. She had her suspicions-- all theories that she prayed would be proven false-- but she didn’t have time to waste. 

Quickly, she muttered a quiet ‘thank you’ to her roommate before grabbing her wand and bolting out the door, her mind racing as she scrambled past her peers in the common room to dart toward the bathrooms. 

She didn’t quite know what she was supposed to expect-- all she knew was that she had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. What scared her the most was that she had no idea what he could possibly be up to. The possibilities were endless, and that worried her like no other. 

It was the fact that she never quite knew with Tom-- she never knew where they stood, she never knew what he was still capable of, she never knew what was a lie, and she never knew what would come next. It was what drew her away from him, but also what pulled her to him. She never knew how he could surprise her, what he would do to make her day, the lengths he would go to show he cared. 

She never knew what to expect: the good, nor the bad. 

There was an indescribable sense of urgency within her as she made her way through the castle, her focus undiverted by her peers that tried to stop her to say hi. She couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that had beset her-- her anxieties were quickly getting the best of her. 

It scared her. It absolutely scared her to think about the possibility that Tom could be scheming behind her back-- that he could be right back on his path to becoming the Dark Lord. Because she knew that she had run out of chances for him. If he crossed that line one last time, she’d be left no choice but to burn the both of them into oblivion. 

It scared her because he was never supposed to mean this much to her. This had never been a part of her plan. She didn’t intend to love him. She didn’t even intend to know him. But, for better or for worse, she knew his heart like her own. And she wanted-- so desperately-- to cling to the hope that he  _ still _ , after everything he had done, had hope for redemption. 

But, as she entered the abandoned bathroom, her hope was quickly dwindling away. 

She couldn’t rid herself of her nerves while her eyes glanced around the quiet space. Myrtle was nowhere to be seen. With her death happening only a year ago, Avalon wondered how long would pass before the girl would return, trapped in the walls of the castle for the rest of time. 

Thinking about how Tom had, less than a year ago, taken innocent lives made her feel an indescribable sense of sorrow. Myrtle Warren’s only crime had been being a muggle-born. And she had lost her life due to the prejudices that Tom and his followers clung to for so long. 

Avalon thought of Clara. How Tom had allowed his posse to treat her terribly for so long-- how he had excused, and even encouraged, such cruel treatment for no reason other than bigotry and hatred. It was beyond disappointing-- and no matter how much she wanted to see the best in him, she was constantly aware of his countless mistakes and flaws. 

But, she thought of Tom’s budding friendship with Clara now. How the two of them would sit together in the Room of Requirement and compare class notes while Avalon and Orion talked to the side. She thought of how Tom would snap at the other boys when they would talk down on muggle-borns-- how he seemed like an entirely different person than who he had been. 

The truth was, though, that he was still the same Tom. Those were mistakes that he would carry with him forever. And as much as she wanted to believe she could separate him from his past, those were faults he would have to spend a lifetime trying to make right. 

She let out a small sigh, shaking her head as she strode deeper into the quiet bathroom. Her footsteps echoed through the room, a slight dripping coming from one of the faucets as the unnerving quiet sent a chill down her spine. 

Tom was nowhere to be seen, but the reason for his absence became abundantly clear as her eyes landed on the sight in front of her. 

Before her was a sink in the center of the lavatory. Though, it had seemingly opened up, revealing a dark, ominous stairwell descending into the darkness beneath it. As she strode closer, she noticed the tiny serpent engraved on the copper tap. 

_ The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets… _

Her mind went back to memories of when the Chamber had been opened her Second Year. 

She would never forget the desperation she had felt in those late nights when she and Hermione would stay in the library until the brink of dawn trying to find out what was causing the sudden attacks on the students. Watching their peers fall victim one by one to an unknown predator… 

The basilisk. 

She felt nausea overtake her as she began to imagine the horrors that lurked just beneath that entrance. Of all the places in the castle, she hadn’t expected the passage to be in the girl’s lavatory. It was times like this when she wished Harry had told her more about what had happened their Second Year. She hadn’t grown close with Ron or Harry until their Third Year after Hermione integrated her into their group, and no matter how much she wanted to press them about the secrets they had discovered, it never quite felt like the right time to ask. 

But, staring at the elusive entrance before her, she felt her heart sink so deep into her chest that her face fell into a look of anguish.

_ Why was Tom going into the Chamber of Secrets? _

She didn’t know, and she didn’t think she quite wanted to know. All she could manage to do was take in a deep breath and try to quell her nerves before she pointed her wand at the nearest mirror and shattered it. 

With shaking hands, she took a hold of the largest fragment she could find and stared at her own reflection for a moment, bracing herself for the things she knew were down there. There was fear in her eyes, but she tried not to think about it as she shook her head and slowly strode into the entrance.

She walked as quietly as she could, but her footsteps still rang through the cavern as she descended into the darkness. The sounds of dripping water and a harrowing echo overtook her senses, the cool air painting her skin with a litter of goosebumps. 

When she made it to the bottom of the stairs, it was near impossible to see the space before her-- the darkness clouded her vision until she whispered,  _ ‘Lumos,’ _ and lit up the space just enough to make sense of the world around her. 

Even with the light, the tunnels were no less ominous than the nightmarish scene she had imagined. As she trudged forward, she found it growing more laborious to drag her feet forward as the soles of her shoes would stick to the sludge that lined the ground. The air was thick with the smell of stagnant water and mildew, but her focus was solely on the indistinguishable sounds that reverberated through the tunnel walls. 

They drew her deeper and deeper into the darkness, her heart racing as she ventured further away from the safety of the castle above. Every time she neared a twist or turn, she’d stop and cautiously stick her hand around the corner, glancing into the mirror to ensure that nothing was lurking beyond the shadows before she would take in a deep breath and continue on her way. 

Time went on as though every second were a lifetime. She found herself growing desperate to escape the endless tunnels that trapped her deep within the Chamber. Her shadow crept behind her like a lurking monster, following behind her with every step she took. 

Reluctantly, she took another step forward, though the moment her foot made contact with the ground, she drew back at the sound of crunching beneath her. 

Her eyes trailed down to be greeted with the first of countless bones scattered along the path. As she looked at the snapped piece, she had to close her eyes and calm her nausea before she could continue-- though from that moment on, she made sure to watch where she was stepping. The bones soon grew to be so abundant, however, that there wasn’t a single spot of the pathway that wasn’t covered in the remains of the unfortunate creatures that had ventured into the tunnels before her. What worried her more, however, were the large, sharp fangs that she saw sporadically strewn across the ground. 

She couldn’t tell how long she had been in the passages. It could have been minutes, it could have been hours. Everything seemed to become nothing more than an indistinguishable blur of nothingness while she stumbled aimlessly through the twists and turns, her heart beating faster and faster as her worries amplified tenfold throughout her body. 

\------

Tom stood in the center of the Chamber. His ears were ringing with a horrible, sharp noise as he looked at the diary he held in one hand and the basilisk fang in the other. 

He had thought this over and made up his mind, but that didn’t make it any easier to face the reality of what he was about to do. He looked down at the diary that he had created all but six months ago and couldn’t help but think about how different things had been back then. 

The man that he used to be wanted nothing more than to escape the ever-present threat of death-- his desperation led him to turn to immortality as the only absolute way to escape his greatest fear. But he now realized there were things much worse than a mortal end. 

He now realized there was someone whose life he valued more than his own. 

And if he had to tear the whole world to the ground and take himself down with it to ensure she’d be happy, he’d do it for her. Because she was his greatest love, his greatest hope, and his greatest fear. 

So, without another moment of hesitation, he dropped to his knees, placing the diary on the ground a moment before he raised the basilisk fang into the air and stabbed the book in front of him. 

And then, the pain. 

He let out a harrowing scream that reverberated through the Chamber as a bone-splitting torture overtook his senses. It was unlike anything he had ever felt before, his entire body searing with a white-hot agony that made him collapse under its strain, his mind begging for the sweet release of an end. 

Time lost meaning as he crumbled to the pain that tore through his body relentlessly, sparing no moment of solace as his screams spilled from his lips. Seconds passed, but it felt like hours until the pain slowly began to subside, leaving him panting breathlessly on the ground. His chest felt as though it were on fire, his blood boiling as he tried to regain his composure, but the lingering torment in his veins made it impossible to focus. 

And he wasn’t even done yet. 

Shakily, he reached into his pocket, grabbing the ring and immediately tossing it onto the ground before him as it scorched his skin. 

It felt surreal to look at it. The last remaining fragment of his tattered soul, shaking on the ground as it sensed its imminent danger. His ears rang with a brain-splitting noise, his heart beating out of his chest while the familiar sense of horrific dread took hostage of all the peace that had ever been known to his mind. 

As his fingers shakily grasped the fang once more, he wearily made his way over to the trembling ring. 

The closer he got, the more his head hurt until the pain grew so intense that he let out a sharp wince, the sound ringing through the Chamber like a taunting jeer of his self-betrayal. But, he didn’t care. 

He was going to destroy that fucking ring if it was the last thing he did. 

_ ‘You’re making a mistake.’ _

Avalon’s voice rang through his mind so clearly that his eyes darted around the Chamber, desperate to catch a glimpse of who he knew it belonged to. But, she was nowhere to be seen-- only a figment of the Horcrux’s last defense. 

_ ‘You’re losing yourself for someone you’ve already lost.’ _

He shook his head furiously, trying not to listen-- but it was near impossible to drown out a voice that resided within the deepest part of his own conscience. 

_ ‘This won’t change a thing. You will always be darkness. And I could never love someone like you.’ _

Avalon had heard Tom’s screams and bolted toward the sound. It wasn’t until she began to see a dim light at the end of the tunnel that she felt a semblance of hope return to her withering spirit. With muted footsteps, she slowly and carefully made her way over to the brightness, her eyes first focusing on the large stone entrance that towered before her. Serpents lined the stone, parting to reveal the Chamber of Secrets. A long cavern greeted her with countless stone, serpentine pillars lining the perimeter, casting shadows along the dimly-lit, greenish Chamber. 

She quickly hid behind the nearest pillar, just barely peeking her mirror out past the corner to be able to catch a glimpse of the scene before her, catching sight of Tom just a moment before he plunged the basilisk fang in his hands down onto the ring on the ground in front of him.

Tom had thought that the pain he had felt when destroying the diary was the worst thing imaginable-- he had been terribly wrong. 

This was indescribable. 

It was an inhumane type of torture. The kind that could make even the strongest person beg for death. The kind that hurt beyond a physical body-- it was the pain of ripping apart your soul from the inside out. The pain of losing a piece of your very being. 

The pain of creating the Horcruxes-- tearing himself to fragments of his whole self-- was absolutely nothing to the feeling of destroying those same pieces he had worked so hard to sever. 

It hurt so badly that he couldn’t breathe. 

He could barely make out his own name being shouted, nor could he make sense of the blurry figure that ran toward him. But, as soon as he felt the touch on his hand, he knew it was her. 

It was impossible to distinguish what she was saying, but her voice was frantic and scared. He wanted to hold her hand and tell her he’d be okay, but he couldn’t. His eyes could barely open enough to even see her beside him as the torture raked through his body, destroying the sanctity of his mind with every passing second. 

The ground began to tremble as the stagnant water surrounding the Chamber began to rise, threatening to flood the whole space as it shot up into the air in a monstrous whirlpool. The broken ring flew backward, becoming one with the raging water and disappearing from sight.

Tom’s pain started to subside just in time for his eyes to catch sight of the roaring wave that was approaching the pair. A moment before it crashed down on them, he quickly grabbed her body and pulled her onto him, pressing her head to his chest and throwing his arms over her in a makeshift attempt to cushion her from the oncoming downpour. 

The wave crashed down atop them a moment later, drenching them in its freezing throes. 

And, just like that, the water quickly subsided back into the drains lining the Chamber, leaving them alone with nothing but their racing hearts.

Avalon could hear his heartbeat underneath her as she slowly lifted herself from his hold, her eyes darting around the space as she inched away cautiously. Her gaze trailed to the diary, a gaping hole torn through its core where the fang had pierced it, its pages now soaked and battered-- leaving behind the empty shell of the vessel that once contained a piece of his soul.

When Tom finally opened his eyes, he saw her watching him with pure concern in her stare. Even after everything he had put her through, she still looked at him as though she wanted him to be okay-- like she needed him to be okay. 

The residual pain still lingered in his body, though it felt as though an invisible string had been cut within him, severing the ties to a part of him he no longer wished to keep. Looking at her made the agony feel worth it. He’d live through it a million times over if it meant she’d be beside him when he woke. 

“Merlin, Tom,” she breathed out, her eyes wide. “Are you alright?”

“Splendid,” he grumbled out, propping himself up on his elbows. His eyes softened when he looked at her, though. 

“What the bloody hell were you doing?” she asked, her voice just barely over a whisper. 

“Just resting my head. What does it look like?” he replied, a slight laugh in his tone as he shook his head incredulously. 

“You destroyed them,” she said, ignoring his remark. “Why?”

He paused for a moment, letting out a sigh as he looked at the mangled Horcrux before him, knowing that he had lost a piece of his soul for good. “I realized I no longer see the value of eternal life anymore.”

“What changed?”

“I suppose I finally came to my senses,” he answered, running a hand through his soaking wet hair. “I made a mistake… it appears as though I’m quite good at that,” he said, pausing for a moment as he sat up. 

“Tom-”

“I wasn’t lying when I said I loved you,” he blurted out. “And I will keep saying it until you believe me. I promised I wouldn’t hurt you again and I broke that and I’m sorr-”

She leaned toward him, wrapping her arms around his neck as she met his lips with her own as he slowly lowered back onto the ground, his hand resting on her waist as he breathed a sigh of relief into her mouth. 

It wasn’t a long kiss, but it felt like the world stopped spinning around them. When she eventually pulled away, he rested his head against hers, looking into her eyes. 

“I love you, Tom,” she said, her fingers gently grazing his cheek.

“I will love you for whatever fragment of forever we are given,” he replied. 

\----

As Avalon and Tom walked back to the Slytherin dorms, the two of them looking like an absolute mess, they were met by several curious stares from their peers, but neither one paid it any mind. Hand in hand, they strode through the castle, a quiet solace taking the two of them hostage, but it was a comfortable silence. 

Still, Tom couldn’t help but notice how uncharacteristically quiet Avalon was as she stared at the ground before her, a puzzled look on her face. “Out with it,” he chuckled.

She opened her mouth, paused, then shut it once more, clearly debating her words. Finally, she asked, “Where the bloody hell was the basilisk?”

“It only comes when I call for it,” he chuckled. “Would you like to see it?”

“You’re fucking mental if you think I’m ever stepping foot in that place again,” she frowned, earning another hearty laugh from him as he stepped forward to the entrance of the common room and stated the password. The door opened up, revealing a rather bustling room filled with a plethora of Slytherins. 

All their eyes turned to see the couple, their hair still damp and their clothes battered. Orion, Axel, and Rosalie sat on one of the couches in the corner, but the moment their eyes landed on Tom and Avalon, Orion’s stare narrowed on their intertwined fingers. 

He stood up, motioning for the pair to follow him as he wordlessly stalked toward his room. Tom let out a slight groan, but Avalon felt her cheeks burn red from the realization that her friend likely thought she was insane for going back to Tom. So, the two of them reluctantly followed the blond into his room, walking in and watching as he shut the door behind him and cast a quick silencing spell. 

When he turned around, the look of scorn on his face was comparable to what she had seen on her aunt’s face when she would get caught sneaking back into their house after disappearing to go drink with the twins. “I feel as though I’m missing something,” Orion said, nodding toward them. 

“You’re missing a lot, I promise,” she said, rubbing the back of her neck. 

“I destroyed both the Horcruxes,” Tom said, though Orion’s frown didn’t subside in the slightest. 

“And who’s to say you won’t just make more?” asked the blond impatiently. She saw Tom tense up at the accusation, but she had to admit that Orion did have a point. “I’ve been on your side this entire time, Riddle. But, I have watched you hurt her time and time again. And, Ava, I can’t watch you get your heart broken anymore.” 

“I have no intention of hurting her again-”

“You never do, though. Do you?” Orion sighed. “It just happens. And I want to believe that you’re changing, Tom, I do. But…” 

“I know I’ve hurt her,” Tom snarled, turning his attention to Avalon before he added, “And I’m going to spend the rest of my life trying to make up for that. I wish that I could say I won’t make any more mistakes from here on out, but I can’t. I will keep messing up because I’m learning to be better for you. But, I will do everything I can to become someone worthy of your heart.”

“Then swear to her you’re leaving your past behind you,” Orion interjected, stealing both of their attention. A chilling silence overtook the room as the blond glared at Tom, awaiting an answer.

Avalon began to speak. “Orion-” 

“I’m dead serious,” the blond said, cutting her off. “Swear to her right now that you won’t make any more of those bloody Horcruxes. If you love her as much as you say you do, prove it.”

Tom narrowed his eyes. “You’re referring to-”

“An Unbreakable Vow,” Orion nodded, his gaze unrelenting. 

The air in the room felt like it was sucked out as the three of them stood there, Avalon and Orion both awaiting Tom’s answer. But, he hardly hesitated, holding out his hand for Avalon to grasp. 

She met his eyes, but there wasn’t a hint of doubt in his stare. So, she took his hand, grasping onto him as Orion pulled out his wand, placing it atop their linked hands before he said, “Will you, Tom Riddle, vow to quit your pursuit of immortality?”

Without even the slightest pause, Tom answered, “I will.”

A thin, glowing strand formed around their hands. But, Orion continued. “Will you give up on your mission of creating any more Horcruxes?”

“I will,” Tom said. 

Another strand formed around their hold before both faded to nothingness the moment Orion lowered his wand. For a moment, none of them said a word. Avalon stared at her hand, the surreal memory of the glowing bond still lingering in her mind. 

_ He will _ , she thought to herself.  _ He will.  _


	56. Chapter 56

By the time Tom and Avalon got cleaned up, it was time for them to finally go to bed. She couldn’t deny how much better she felt knowing that she could sleep beside him again. The sound of his heartbeat lulling her to sleep was something she had missed dearly. 

They laid down beside one another, his arms around her waist as he looked into her eyes adoringly. His fingers gently reached out and stroked her cheek, his touch sending familiar electricity through her skin. 

“How are you feeling?” she asked, putting her hand on his. 

“Exhausted,” he answered truthfully. 

She paused for a moment, thinking to herself before saying, “Do you feel different at all?”

“It’s a bit strange,” he said, his deep brown eyes lost in thought. “I can sense that a part of me is gone, but I reckon it’s better this way. As though I was able to lose the darkest parts of me. And now I’m left with everything that I could ever need,” he said, smiling when he leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. 

She couldn’t help but feel relieved-- as though a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. He had destroyed the Horcruxes and vowed to never pursue their creation ever again. If she hadn’t been convinced before, she knew now that his future would no longer lead to becoming the Dark Lord. 

She had succeeded. Not in the way she had originally planned, but a victory nonetheless. He wouldn’t-- and couldn’t-- go down the path she had feared. If he broke his Vow, he would die. It was as simple as that. 

Tom would not become the immortal Dark Lord. 

“I’m proud of you,” she said, shifting a little to lie her head down atop his chest and listen to the soft beating of his heart. “For destroying the Horcruxes, I mean.”

She couldn’t see the soft smile on his lips, but he kissed her forehead, mumbling into her skin, “Now there are no more secrets or lies between us.”

“Orion gave me a time-turner today,” she admitted, not wanting to hide it from Tom. She could sense his sudden worry almost instantly and quickly added, “I don’t think I will use it.”

“You don’t?”

She shook her head, deep in thought. “No,” she said, a hint of sadness in her voice. “Even if I wanted to, I’ve undoubtedly changed the course of time far too much by being here. I don’t even know if the people I love will know who I am in a world without Voldemort.”

“Voldemort?” he asked. “Is that my nam-” 

“His name,” she quickly corrected him. “Not yours.”

He paused for a moment before quietly saying, “Everything that happened to you… I’m- he… is responsible?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” she said, swallowing down the painful memories, pushing them back to the far corners of her mind.

“It does, dove,” he sighed, putting his finger beneath her chin and gently lifting her gaze to meet his. “If you have to carry the weight of your actions, I should know of mine.”

“They’re not your actions-”

“They would have been,” he replied, a forlorn look in his eyes. “Had it not been for you, they would have been.”

She took in a deep shaky breath, looking down once more as she paused to think. “He was evil… and his followers just as bad. After we lost the war, they took to the streets and hunted down every last muggle-born they could find along with those of us who defended them. They tortured people for information and once they got what they wanted, they’d murder them and make a show of their bodies.” He felt a small drop of water fall from her cheek and onto his chest, so he pulled her closer, rubbing her back as she spoke. “I was sent back to kill you because we had lost all hope. We had exhausted our options and it felt as though we had already lost-- and we had. We were desperate.”

“How did you lose?” he asked, his voice quiet. 

“Harry was the key. Everything changed when he killed Harry,” she said. “I think the moment it happened, we all knew it was over, but none of us wanted to accept that. So, we kept fighting, and- and more of us kept dying. Hermione and I were captured then-- I don’t know much of what happened after the battle. But, I know it was a mess. Death and destruction all over the castle. I couldn’t say how many people we lost that day.”

It was hard for him to listen to her speak of the atrocities committed under his command. She harbored such pain in her retelling that he didn’t dare to even meet her eyes-- the guilt that overtook him was overwhelming. But, he listened. He listened as she told him about everything-- from her life, to her friends, to the war, to the loss. 

“How did nobody stop… him?” he finally asked. “What about Dumbledore?”

“Voldemort orchestrated Dumbledore’s murder in order to take the Elder Wand from him,” she said slowly, a forlorn look on her face. “Once he had the wand, he was far too powerful. We just… couldn’t defeat him.”

Tom furrowed his brows. “The Elder Wand? But, Grindelwald possesses it…” His eyes widened as something clicked in his mind and he said, “Earlier, we made a bet about Dumbledore defeating Grindel-”

“Yeah, you owe me five galleons,” she laughed, a semblance of happiness returning to her face.

“You’re such a cheat,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes as her amusement grew. Still, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, looking at her as he thought for a moment. There was so much love in her eyes-- he didn’t think he’d ever be worthy of it. Finally, he asked something that had been plaguing his mind for days, “How can you bear to look at me after what I--... what _he_ did?”

“You look nothing like him,” she said with a chuckle, earning a look of confusion from him. “He was one ugly motherfucker.” 

\-----

The next day, Avalon sat in Herbology between Clara and Zelda. The trio was busy trimming the leaves on their pots of Venomous Tentacula. The spiky, green plant writhed beneath them as they carefully snipped off the excess branches, though its vines would sporadically shoot out every so often and try to latch onto them. 

The three girls were far too focused on their plants to attempt to upkeep any semblance of conversation, so they merely stood beside one another as they quietly attended to their work.

Every once in a while, the sound of another student’s loud swearing would steal their attention. They’d look up just in time to see one of their peers wrestling with their violently thrashing plant as it latched its vine around them, trying to strangle them. 

“Bloody hell,” Avalon grumbled as she watched her own plant attempt to snake around her neck, but she bolted down just in time to avoid its grasp. 

She heard Clara let out a slight huff of annoyance and turned just in time to see the plant lunge at Clara’s hand, its vine narrowly missing. It did manage to wrap around her finger, though, nearly pulling her promise ring off before she pointed her wand at it and clearly stated,  _ “Diffindo,”  _ watching the vine sever off the plant, falling onto the table with a  _ thud _ .

“Nasty pieces of work these things are,” Zelda muttered, glaring down at the thrashing plant in front of her. She turned to watch Clara for a moment, sighing as she watched the star Herbology student handle the plant with ease. “I don’t know how you handle these so well. It’s incredible, really.”

A faint blush found its way onto Clara’s cheeks as she shook her head, trying to be modest. “It’s only because I’ve had quite a bit of experience with them. Professor Slughorn has had me gather their leaves for him to brew in his potions before.”

“How is your...” Avalon cut off her own words as she quickly snatched her hand away from a vicious vine before continuing, “...apprenticeship with Slughorn going?” 

“Quite well, actually,” Clara said, a sheepish smile on her lips. “Truth be told, he helped me get a position at the Ministry. I’ll be spending the summer in the Department of Magical Education helping write research journals in regard to the care of some uncommon plant species that were recently discovered.”

Both Zelda and Avalon’s jaws dropped as they momentarily glanced away from their plants and looked over at Clara. “Merlin, Clara. That’s wonderful!” Avalon exclaimed. “Couldn’t think of anyone who deserves it more than you.”

“I’m rather excited,” Clara said, trying to bite back the wide grin on her face. “It’s a dream come true.”

“I can’t wait to hear all about it,” Zelda said. “You’ll have to write to us and let us know how it’s going.”

“Of course,” Clara nodded, her happiness beaming through her eyes. Their conversation came to an end as the Professor announced the end of class. 

Zelda and Avalon stepped away from their infuriatingly aggressive plants the moment the class concluded. They gathered their snipped leaves and waited for Clara as she patiently tended to her plant, snipping off one last leaf before the three of them walked to the front of the Greenhouse and gave the professor their harvest. 

As they exited the class, Avalon asked, “Would either of you like to get lunch?”

“I’ll walk with you,” Zelda said. “I’m going to eat with Jane if you’d like to join.”

“I already promised Tom I’d meet up with him,” she said. “Clara, do you want to join?”

“I’m going to gather some ingredients for Professor Slughorn at the edge of the forest,” Clara replied apologetically. “But I’ll meet up with you all later, alright?”

“Perfect. See you later!” Avalon said, waving at the bubbly girl as she strode off in the direction of the Forbidden Forest. 

Moments later, the two remaining girls began their journey to the Great Hall for lunch. Zelda nudged her on the shoulder, a sly grin on her lips as she said, “So, you didn’t come back last night to sleep in our room. I take it you and Riddle are back on good terms?”

Avalon lightly laughed, nodding while they passed by a group of fellow Ravenclaws who smiled and waved toward them. Zelda called out a quick greeting to their peers before turning her attention back to her friend, her eyebrow quipped up as she awaited more details. “We made up and I think this time things will be different,” Avalon said. “I trust him a lot more now. He was able to really prove to me that he meant his apology.”

“For his sake, I hope he doesn’t mess this up again,” Zelda said, chuckling. “But, for what it’s worth, I want you to know that the Riddle I knew six months ago is an entirely different person than the Riddle I see today. I don’t know what the hell you did, but it must be some powerful ancient magic to pull off that kind of a transformation.”

Avalon rolled her eyes, laughing and playfully bumping Zelda’s shoulder with her own as they strode into the Great Hall. She spotted Tom and Orion sitting at the end of the Slytherin table together the moment they walked in. The two boys were deep in conversation, not even noticing as she and Zelda entered. It warmed her heart to see their new bond. 

She knew that Orion had changed Tom just as much as she had. In many ways, he had taught Tom things that she never could-- things about true friendship and kindness. He was a good influence, and she found herself grateful that Tom finally had one of the boys which he could lean on for support and guidance. Like a brother.

“I’ll see you later in class,” Zelda said, giving her a quick wave as she started heading towards the Gryffindor table to sit with her girlfriend. 

“Tell Jane I say hello!” Avalon called out before approaching Tom and Orion. “Hope I’m not interrupting,” she joked as she sat down beside Tom. 

“We’ll allow it this time,” said Orion, grinning. 

“What were you two talking about?” she asked, curious. 

The two boys looked at one another sheepishly before Tom said, “We have some questions for you.”

“Is this an interrogation?” she laughed. 

“Who wins the House Cup this year?” Orion blurted out. 

She looked between the two of them, doing a double-take at each of their faces as they sat on the edge of their seats with their attention undividedly strewn toward her. “What?”

“The House Cup,” said Tom. “Who wins?”

“How the bloody hell would I know?” she asked.

“You’re from the future,” Orion whispered, though his voice was ridden with impatient anticipation. “They keep track of which house wins each year. So…” 

“You could ask me anything about the next fifty years of history and you want to know who wins the House Cup?” she asked incredulously. 

“She doesn’t know,” Orion grumbled, shaking his head at an equally disappointed Tom. 

“I already told you that Dumbledore defeats Grindelwald in the most historic duel of the century, possibly of all time, and you still want more out of me?” said Avalon, shaking her head at the two disappointed boys. 

Orion’s jaw dropped before he frowned at Tom. “You didn’t tell me she said that!”

“I assumed she had told you,” retorted Tom defensively.

Orion sighed, annoyed but pleased at the new information nonetheless. “Is Dippet still headmaster?” he asked, changing the subject. 

“No,” she said, watching as both of them let out a sigh of relief. “It was Dumbledore,” she added, trying to hold back her laughter as Tom groaned, his disdain for the Transfiguration professor not yet dissipated. 

“Did you go to school with any of my grandkids?” Orion pried, his eyes shining bright with excitement as he awaited her answer. 

“None that went to Hogwarts when I did,” she answered, watching Orion pout with disappointment. 

“Bummer,” he grumbled. “I wanted to know if they were still Slytherins or not.”

She let out a light laugh, but her mind strayed to memories of the Battle of the Department of Mysteries her Fifth Year when she and her friends had tried to steal back the prophecy. She knew that an Avery had been one of the Death Eaters in that fight, though she found it hard to believe any descendent of Orion’s would ever join Voldemort. She found it more believable that that particular Death Eater was more likely to be Alistair’s son rather than Orion’s. 

“Did you have a boyfriend?” Tom asked, his dark eyes staring at her inquisitively. 

She thought back to Dean. Their relationship had been purely physical, so she just said, “Uh… Not exactly.”

Orion couldn’t hold back his laughter as Tom’s face fell into a deep-set scowl. “And what do you mean by that?”

“We were only friends with benefits,” she said, waving her hand dismissively as he narrowed his eyes on her at the words.

“Friends with benefits? I’m assuming that is a modern phrase meaning something I’d rather not entertain,” he frowned. 

“You assume correctly,” she laughed. 

Tom couldn’t help the annoyance written on his face as he paused for a moment, trying to hide his displeasure. “Let me guess. He was a Gryffindor?”

“Why does it matt-”

“I knew it,” he groaned. “Alright, then. Let me see him.”

“Excuse me?” she said, raising her brow at him. 

“I said let me see him,” he repeated. “Show me your memories of him.”

“Believe me, you don’t want to see my memories with him,” she said, bursting into laughter when his eyes widened larger than she had ever seen before, his jaw setting in a tense clench. But, after taking in the sight of his near mental-breakdown, she put her hand on his knee and leaned forward to place a kiss on his cheek. “You have nothing to worry about. I love you. Only you. In this time and in that one.”

“What about me?” asked Orion jokingly from across the table as he bit into a bread roll. 

“What about you?” said Tom, earning a smack to his arm from Avalon. 

Orion chuckled, looking between the couple before saying, “So I take it Tom’s looks weren’t enough to seduce you in the future?”

“Merlin, no,” she scoffed. “He was repulsive.” 

“What does that even mean?” asked Tom, trying to swallow the fading jealousy and bite back his annoyance. 

She stared directly at the center of his face, thinking of the monster that was Lord Voldemort before she shrugged. “Who nose,” she laughed, tapping him on the tip of his nose and watching as his frown became even more dead-set. 

“I don’t understan-”

“Don’t worry about it,” she chuckled, reaching forward and grabbing a mince pie and taking a bite before Tom could ask any more questions. 

  
  


\-----

“Can you at least tell me his name?” whispered Tom as Avalon, Zelda, and he sat in the back of their Transfiguration lecture. Avalon was starting to regret ever telling him about her past relationship seeing as he hadn’t dropped the subject since lunch. 

“No, now shut up,” she grumbled, trying to listen to Dumbledore’s lesson. 

“What does he look like?” he asked, ignoring her. 

“He’s… tall,” she muttered, sending him a scowl. 

“How tall?”

“Will the two of you be quiet?” hissed Zelda, desperate to take notes despite their constant chit-chat. 

“Sorry, Z,” Avalon sighed, shooting Tom another stern frown. He rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair as he tried not to think about the previous men Avalon had been with. 

Avalon was nearly at the point in which she was debating Obliviating Tom to make him forget she had ever mentioned Dean to begin with. She didn’t even want to imagine his reaction if she told him that she had lost her virginity to Fred Weasley. She made a mental note to take that fact to the grave with her. 

At times, Avalon found herself thinking about what her life could be like if Tom had met her friends and family back home. She wanted him to know the people she loved-- but with every passing day, she had come more and more to terms with the fact that she may never be able to return to her old life. 

Surely, after diverting Tom from his path to becoming Voldemort, the future would never again be the same. If she were to return, there was a great chance that many of her friends may not know her-- or may not even exist in that timeline. It was hard to say how much would be different. In a world without Voldemort, it was impossible to predict the changes that would result. 

She didn’t think she could handle the heartbreak of going back to a home that didn’t recognize her. The thought of returning to a world that had never known the horrors of the war scared her. To be the only person who would remember the torture she endured was frightening, and if she were to return to a world in which her own friends didn’t recognize her, she wasn’t sure if she could endure the weight of her trauma on her own. 

At least in this time, she had Tom… Zelda… Orion… Clara. 

At least in this time, she was promised people who loved her. 

It broke her heart. Because truly, there was nothing she wanted more than to be able to return and see how her mission in this time had helped the future. But, she knew that part of her sacrifice was accepting that this may be her new home. And she would have to live her life knowing that even if she never saw the outcome, her choices in this era would save the lives of those she loved. 

She just wished that she could see it for herself. 

Her attention once again returned to the lecture as Dumbledore said, “The key to a successful and lasting switching spell is...”

However, his words trailed off as the classroom door burst open, and in ran Professor Merrythought. She looked frantic-- eyes wide, fingers trembling, movements rushed. Every set of eyes in the classroom quickly found themselves glued to her as she strode to the front of the class and whispered something to Dumbledore. 

Avalon felt an odd sense of dread rise in her when she saw the way Dumbledore’s typically calm and collected face fell. She couldn’t hear what Merrythought had said, but whatever it had been, it was obvious that it had not been good news. 

“There is something I must immediately attend to,” Dumbledore said, his voice not revealing any emotion as he looked out at the class. “Please, remain in your seats until given further instruction.”

And, before anyone could ask a single question, he and Merrythought urgently raced back out of the room, shutting the door behind them. 

The classroom was overtaken with a horrible tension. Every single student seemed to be faced with the same dreadful feeling as they quietly looked amidst one another, wondering what could have happened that required their Professor to be taken out of class so suddenly. Quiet whispering began to flood the room as everyone began to discuss with their peers what they thought could be the disturbance.

“What do you think she told him?” Zelda asked, turning to Tom and Avalon with a worried look on her face. 

“I… don’t know,” Avalon said, the sick feeling in her stomach growing with each passing second. 

“Perhaps it could be related to Grindelwald,” Tom suggested, though even he was at a loss. “For Dumbledore to be taken out of class, it would have to be something rather pressing.”

Avalon nodded, lost in thought. She felt him take her hand into his own, giving it a slight squeeze to remind her that everything would be okay. She tried to force a smile before saying, “I just think-”

But, her words were cut off when they heard a loud voice reverberating through the entire castle.  _ “ _ **_All students report to the Great Hall immediately. Sit with your houses and await further instruction. I repeat, all students report to the Great Hall immediately._ ** _ ” _

Avalon met Zelda’s worried gaze before looking to Tom, noting the confusion written on his face, too. The entire class quickly rose from their seats, making their way into the hallway to be greeted by the sight of the other classrooms all filing out and walking toward the Great Hall. 

There were hushed conversations ringing through the castle, but nobody dared speak up. The unspoken sense of fear that had overtaken them all was enough to keep them quiet. Avalon felt Tom pull her closer to his side, rubbing circles into the back of her hand, trying to calm her as her fingers began to tremble. Her worries were already eating her alive as she tried to think of what could possibly have caused this sudden sense of urgency throughout the castle. 

When they arrived at the Great Hall, the heads of houses were quickly ushering the students toward their house tables. Tom sighed, kissing Avalon on the top of her head before tilting her chin up to look at him. “It’s going to be alright. I’ll find you after, okay?”

She nodded, offering him a weak smile before following Zelda toward Ravenclaw’s table and sitting down. From across the Hall, she watched as Tom went and sat at Slytherin’s table beside Axel, Rosalie, and Orion. Orion caught her eyes for a moment and shrugged at her, seemingly just as clueless as she was about the entire situation. 

Professors were scurrying around, taking stock of how many students were in the Hall as the last classes slowly trickled into the nearly-packed room. Zelda had a similar look of worry imprinted on her face as she looked around the room, trying to make sense of the scene around her. Though, it was to no avail as both she and Avalon were left clueless as they watched the Professors hastily show everyone to their seats. Quickly, the commotion died down as all the remaining students sat at their tables and awaited any semblance of an explanation for the emergency assembly.

Moments later, Headmaster Dippet walked in through the entrance of the Great Hall-- behind him were Dumbledore, Merrythought, and Madam Bardot. 

The two Professors and the Healer made their way toward the other Professors, but Dippet walked to the podium at the front of the Hall, a solemn look on his face as he looked out at the sea of students before him. The entire room was suddenly overtaken with a bone-chilling silence that unnerved every single person in the space. Dippet took in a deep breath before pressing his wand to his neck and speaking. “I understand that you must all be wondering why you were pulled out of your classes. Unfortunately, this was a matter that could not wait.”

Avalon couldn’t fend off the horrible feeling in her stomach as she glanced around the room, noting how every student was watching Dippet with a similar look of concern. She fiddled with the bracelet Tom had given her, desperate to try and ease her nerves, though nothing could curb the stress that had taken hostage of her entire being. Dippet continued to speak, though Avalon knew he was preparing to announce something of great importance-- it was obvious he was merely trying to find the right words. She had never seen the Headmaster look quite so despondent as he let out one final sigh and spoke once more.

“Clara Bell’s body has been found at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.”


	57. Chapter 57

Avalon felt her heart drop into her stomach at the Headmaster’s words. 

_ ‘Clara Bell’s body has been found at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.’ _

She felt sick. 

But, all she could do was turn to look at Orion. 

The color had drained from his features as he stared ahead at the Headmaster, a blank look on his petrified face. 

Frantic whispers overtook the Great Hall as the horrible news shocked the students, but Dippet kept speaking. “We have been investigating the scene and have concluded that the cause of Miss Bell’s untimely death was an attack from a creature that ventured outside the typical bounds of the Forest. There is a team of Magical Creature Specialists from the Ministry currently searching the Forest to find the beast responsible. But, we do believe that this was nothing more than a terrible, tragic accident.”

“Oh my God…” Zelda said under her breath, her hand slowly rising to cover her mouth as she listened to the Headmaster in shock.

The sound of a choked sob turned Avalon’s attention toward the Hufflepuff table. Clara’s roommate, Isabella, burst into tears, her friends trying to calm her down. The girl’s body shook violently as her sorrow overtook her entire being, crumbling her down into nothing more than a vessel for despair. 

“I understand that this is a tough time for us as a school. Miss Bell was loved by all and her absence will be felt deeply throughout the entire castle. The remainder of classes will be canceled this week while we all are given a chance to grieve and prepare for a memorial.”

Dippet continued talking, but his words faded to white noise in Avalon’s brain as she watched Orion get up from his seat and hastily rush to the exit. Tom and Avalon both quickly stood and followed after him, trailing behind as the blond shoved the door open and fled the Hall. 

The sound of the door bursting open stole the attention of all the students who weren’t already sobbing to their friends. For a brief moment, Avalon glanced over her shoulder, a rising feeling of dread in her gut when she saw the hundreds of eyes that watched the trio leave the Great Hall. 

Without another word, she turned and ran after Orion. 

“Avery,” Tom called out, grabbing his distraught friend’s elbow. 

Orion forcibly yanked his arm away, not bothering to even look back at his friends as he began running in the direction of the Hospital Wing. Avalon and Tom glanced at each other for a split second, the two of them silently agreeing to follow after their friend before they bolted after him. 

The world was a jumbled blur as they scrambled up the flight of stairs and to the Hospital. The same corridors where Orion had cheered Avalon up countless times suddenly felt as though they were tainted by an intangible darkness that drowned them all in its woes. There was silence in the castle-- with everyone still huddled in the Great Hall, the only sounds that echoed through the walls were their rushed footsteps. 

When they made it to the floor of the infirmary, Avalon could hear crying before they even reached the door. 

Orion’s footsteps slowed down as he strode quietly to the entrance, his eyes immediately falling on Clara’s parents. Even with her back turned to Avalon, Tom, and Orion, Clara’s mother looked just like her-- strawberry blond hair draped over her face as she clung to her husband, sobbing into his arms. 

The sound of their harrowing cries tore through Avalon’s chest like a knife. Memories of Molly and Arthur weeping over Fred’s lifeless body came rushing back to her in a painful wave, but she couldn’t afford to focus on that. Not now. Now when Orion was standing right next to her, his blank eyes staring straight ahead at his girlfriend’s parents. 

Clara’s mother fell to her knees, her father sitting down beside her and holding her tightly as the sound of their sobs echoed off the stone walls. When they knelt down, Avalon heard Orion let out a choked gasp when he saw the sight in front of him. 

_ She almost looked peaceful.  _

Her eyes were closed, once rosy cheeks devoid of any color as she laid in the hospital bed. Had it not been for the lifeless color of her skin, one could almost mistake her to be sleeping. 

_ Almost _ . 

A blanket was draped over her body, though her hands were folded neatly atop her stomach. Thick, white scars covered her arms in wake of the fresh wounds that the Healers had quickly covered up before her parents saw their daughter’s body. 

Madam Bardot’s assistant finally saw the trio standing by the door and quickly flicked her wand in their direction, the door slamming shut in their faces as the Healer attempted to give the Bells privacy. 

Silence. 

Absolute silence. 

Slowly, Orion turned around, his eyes glued to the ground as his eyebrows set in a deep furrowed state. His voice was quiet when he said, “How do we fix this?” 

Avalon spoke softly. “Orion-”

“You’ve spent years learning how to defy death,” he said, his eyes slowly drifting up to face Tom. “How do we bring her back?!”

Tom couldn’t hide the pain in his eyes as he met Orion’s desperate stare. But, he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. For once, he didn’t have the right words. 

Orion’s words grew more frantic as his lips twisted into a scowl, his distress growing when faced with Tom’s silence. “You have to know a way-”

“Orion, I can’t-”

“THEN FUCKING FIND A WAY!” he shouted, storming forward and shoving Tom back. He barely budged, only fueling Orion’s anger further as hot tears began to leak out from the corner of his eyes. “You’re… You’re Tom fucking Riddle… You have to know-- you always know… Y-you…” 

“What if we get another time-turner from the Ministry?” Avalon asked, her voice desperately hopeful. 

Orion shook his head, his eyes wide. He stuttered over his own words as he choked out, “I… That’s impossible, Avalon. It’s fucking impossible! It… They… They have so many f-fucking protections… We c-couldn’t… We wouldn’t…” He buried his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking as he choked on his own cries. “We can’t...” His body slumped against the nearest wall, slowly sliding down as his sobs raked through his entire body, making his defeated frame tremble in agony. 

Avalon quickly sat down beside him, wrapping her arms around him as he cried into her shoulder, his tears soaking through the fabric of her uniform. She could hardly feel the coursing rivers of anguish flowing down her own cheeks-- a horrible numbness had overtaken her. 

She knew she couldn’t afford to grieve right now. Not when Orion needed her. So, she did what she had done after every single death she had ever dealt with: pushed her own feelings aside to deal with the damage in front of her. 

Tom could hardly bear to watch Avalon and Orion. He felt utterly useless-- and he absolutely hated it. He hated not knowing what to do. He hated not having the right answer. He hated knowing a situation was out of his control. 

And he couldn’t even begin to imagine what Orion was going through. To lose the love of his life…

He thought of Avalon. How he had thought she was going to die in his arms on the evening of the boggart attack… 

He didn’t know what he would have done if she hadn’t survived that. 

Orion’s agonizing sobs pierced through Tom in a way he didn’t think they could. Because seeing the typically-upbeat boy bleed out his broken heart through the tears streaming down his face only made Tom realize the true pain of losing your truest love. 

And he knew that Orion, of all people, did not deserve that kind of suffering.

When Tom heard footsteps approaching, he was the only one of the three who turned in time to see Dumbledore walking toward them. The Transfiguration professor adorned a sorrowful look on his face, his morose eyes fixated on Orion before he stopped beside Tom and quietly said, “The students will shortly be escorted back to their rooms for the evening. I think it may be in Mr. Avery’s best interest to have you and Miss Hendrix take him back to his dorm before the rest of your peers flood the halls.” 

Tom turned to face Dumbledore, keeping his voice quiet when he asked, “Are you certain this was an accident?”

The Professor let out a dragged-out sigh, his gaze once again trailing toward Orion. “The injuries Miss Bell sustained were undoubtedly inflicted by a creature,” he said, pausing for a moment before adding, “There is no evidence to infer otherwise.”

Hearing those words come from the Professor’s mouth made Tom take in a sharp breath, his last shred of held-out hope quickly fading to nothingness. The fact that Clara’s death was nothing more than an accident-- a random choice of fate-- infuriated him like nothing else. He wanted to be able to hold someone accountable-- to make someone pay. 

But, he couldn’t. 

None of them could. 

Because Clara Bell was dead, and there was nothing any of them could do about it. 

\------

Avalon sat with Orion in his bed later that evening. His head was laid on her lap, the rest of his body curled up as his shoulders trembled once every few moments when another choked sob would escape his lips. 

Neither one of them had spoken for hours. There was nothing to say. There were no words that would make any of this okay, no words that could take away the pain, no words that would bring her back. 

So, they sat in silence. 

And for Orion, she would brave the silence for all of time. 

Her own tears had dried, replaced with a numb shock as she gently stroked the blond’s hair. They were wrapped in a mutual devastation, though she tried her hardest not to let her heartache show as she comforted her best friend. She felt the pain of her loss deeply, but knew that it was incomparable to the torture that Orion was enduring. 

She had lost a friend. 

But he had lost his entire life.

His heart, his soul-- neither one would ever be complete again. And as she watched him, his eyes staring blankly ahead while endless rivers coursed down his tear-stained cheeks, she knew that he would never even be the same person again. Because without Clara, a part of him-- the part he loved most-- was gone. 

Avalon had lost many loved ones. But, Orion had lost the love of his life. And that was a pain that even she couldn’t understand. 

The sound of a quiet knock on the door stole her attention, but Orion didn’t even look up as Tom slowly opened the door and walked in. He held two saucers in his hands, carrying tea and small sweets as he made his way over toward them, placing the steaming drinks and treats down on the bedside table for Orion and Avalon.

“It’s getting late,” Tom said, his voice gentle. “You both need rest.”

“I’m going to spend the night here,” Avalon replied softly, still stroking Orion’s hair. She hoped he would say something, but he didn’t. 

“You should go get your things from your dorm,” suggested Tom. He saw her open her mouth to protest and quickly added, “I’ll stay with him.”

She debated arguing, but paused for a moment and said, “I should probably check on Zelda, too…” Her fingers trailed down to Orion’s cheek, gently wiping away his tears. “I’ll only be gone a minute. Okay?”

He didn’t answer her, but he wordlessly moved his head off her lap, shuffling onto the other side of his bed and curling up once more. A part of her broke when she saw him grab his pillow and hold it to his chest, trying to muffle his own cries into it as he turned his back toward her and Tom. 

She had to pry her eyes away from him, knowing that if she looked at him for much longer, she wouldn’t be able to bring herself to leave. Reluctantly, she stood, a singular tear falling down her face as she made her way to the door. Before she could leave, Tom caught a hold of her hand and lifted it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to her skin. His eyes held hers for a moment, desperate to make sure she, herself, was okay. She offered him a half-hearted smile and squeezed his hand before letting go and walking out of the room. 

Tom slowly strode over to Nott’s bed and sat down across from Orion. “You should eat something,” he urged. Orion didn’t reply. He just laid there with his bloodshot, blue eyes staring blankly before him, his tears finally running dry. Tom glanced around the room, sighing to himself when he noticed the small yellow flower pot on Orion’s windowsill. In it grew a small, sprouting sycamore sapling. A few more moments of silence passed before Tom sighed and said, “Orion-”

“What would you do if it were her?” asked Orion, his voice hoarse. 

Tom tilted his head, his brows furrowing. “Sorry?”

“What would you do if it were Avalon?” he asked, his eyes still staring straight ahead emotionlessly. 

Tom didn’t even want to think about that. He didn’t want to think about Avalon’s lifeless body. He didn’t want to think about her heart beating for the last time. He didn’t want to think about a life without her. Because he hadn’t truly lived before her, and he knew he could never live after her.

His whole life had led to her. And the thought of losing her… 

He didn’t know what he would do. All he knew is that he would want to make the world suffer the same pain of his loss. He’d burn the whole fucking earth to ashes to make it pay for stealing her from him. 

But, he didn’t know what he’d do. Because nothing he could do would make it any easier to handle losing the best part of your existence. So, he didn’t say anything. And Orion just let out a dejected laugh and said, “Yeah. Exactly.” A few moments of nothingness passed them before Orion spoke again, his voice breaking as he choked out, “I… I never even got to say goodbye. I didn’t… I couldn’t even tell her that I fucking  _ loved _ her one last t-time.”

“She knew,” Tom said, knowing without a doubt that it was true.

“I just…” Orion stammered, his eyes frantic. “She… She’s  _ gone _ , Tom. She’s just fucking gone and I… I couldn’t  _ save _ her. I-I… couldn’t…” his words trailed off as he burst into tears again, an agonizing sob raking through his entire body as his despair washed over him once again. “She was good and kind and pure… and none of that mattered. None of it fucking mattered!” he shouted, sitting up a bit to bury his head into his hands, tugging at his hair furiously. “It’s not fucking fair!”

“You’re right,” Tom said, his eyes as crestfallen as his dispirited voice. “It’s… not.”

And it wasn’t. They both knew that. Neither one of them spoke again after that. They just sat together, time trickling by as they tried to face the silence together. 

Tom didn’t know how much time had passed until Avalon finally came back. She’d changed out of her uniform and was carrying a bag filled to the brim with some of her necessities-- evidently, she intended to spend a copious amount of the upcoming days in Orion’s room.

Quietly, she made her way back over to the bed and sat down once again beside Orion, instantly going back to stroking his hair and trying to soothe his trembling figure. She looked down and saw him tightly clenching his fists, his nails digging crescent craters into his skin and she sighed, taking his hands into her own and gently prying his fingers apart. He let out another choked cry and she began to rub circles into his skin, reminding him that she was there for him through thick and thin.

Orion moved his head into her lap, and she gently stroked his cheek, her touch being his only semblance of solace in his darkest moment. 

Tom could see how Orion-- if only just barely-- calmed down when Avalon was beside him. From the way she knew exactly how to comfort people, it was painfully obvious that she had been faced with this kind of task countless times before. Tom couldn’t help but wonder how many of her friends she had sat with and held after they lost their loves in the war. 

He watched as she put on a brave face and whispered gentle reminders into Orion’s ear, her inaudible voice easing the blond’s sobs. Tom knew that she was undoubtedly hurting, too. They all were. But, she pushed her own grief to the side to help her friend-- she always put her loved ones before herself…

Tom felt a sharp pain in his chest because he couldn’t bear to think of what he would do if it had been Avalon. And he knew that this pain he felt was nothing compared to what Orion was being forced to live through. 

No, it wasn’t fair. And no, Orion didn’t deserve that. 

Tom wished that there was something he could do to help his friend, but even he knew that there was nothing that could ease the pain of love lost. The only one that could heal Orion’s broken heart would be Clara, and without her, the light was gone. 

It wasn’t long before Orion’s muffled sobs muted into quiet breathing, his exhaustion soon carrying him off to a deep sleep. Avalon remained by his side, her touch still softly brushing his hair long after his drained body had drifted into restless slumber. 

She glanced over at Tom and for the first time, he could finally see the heartbreak in her own eyes. “I’ll stay with him for the rest of the night,” she offered, keeping her voice quiet to not wake Orion up. 

“I can stay, too,” Tom offered sincerely, standing up and walking over to be beside her. He took her free hand into his, giving it a slight squeeze as he knelt down to be level with her. 

She intertwined their fingers, offering him a disheartened smile before she said, “It’s okay. Go get some rest and I’ll see you in the morning.”

“I’m not leaving you-”

“I’ll be alright,” she insisted. She looked down at Orion, who was still asleep in her lap. A lingering look of despair was still painted onto the blond’s features even in his slumber. She wished, more than anything, that she could take his pain away. “There’s no use in neither of us sleeping tonight. You should rest-- he will need us tomorrow, too. We won’t be of much use if we’re both exhausted.”

His eyes trailed over to Orion’s sleeping figure, his familiar sadness washing over him once more before he sighed and lifted Avalon’s hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she said, and both of them meant it. With their entire beings, they meant it. 

“Try and sleep, alright?” he said, standing back up as he began to reluctantly make his way to the door. “I’m only a few doors down if you need me.” She nodded to him and watched as he walked out of the room, turning off the lights before he disappeared into the shadows of the hall.

And when he left, her last ounce of peace left with him. 

All that remained was the familiar feeling of loss. A feeling she knew all too well-- one that she had come to this time to try and prevent herself from ever having to endure again. 

In her quiet solitude, she was met with grief as though it were an old friend coming to greet her-- to steal her back into the darkness she had been trying to escape for so long. And with nobody there to pull her to the surface, she suddenly felt herself drowning in all the pain she had tried to shove aside. 

With Orion fast asleep, she could finally stop pretending to be okay and come face to face with her own grief. 

Because as much as she tried, she couldn’t be strong forever. 

And the feeling never got easier to handle. Death would never become normal, nor would it ever become painless-- she lost a part of herself time and time again, each loss tearing her apart more than the last.

And so, as she felt her courage draining, she was forced to cover her mouth with her hand, clamping her eyes tightly shut and trying to muffle the sound of her own inconsolable cries. 

\--------

Avalon didn’t know what time it was, but something about the way the water of the lake was glistening with a different hue told her that morning was fast approaching. She hadn’t slept for even a moment. Her mind was racing with far too many thoughts to afford herself a second of rest. 

Orion, on the other hand, had remained asleep throughout the whole night. She could tell his rest was plagued with torment from the slight grimace permanently etched onto his tear-stained face, but she let him be nonetheless. He needed it-- the cruel day had drained him of every last drop of energy and left him a shell of the man he once was. 

Her eyes stung from a mixture of her crying and her exhaustion. She closed them momentarily, trying to quell the horrid headache that had begun to pound through her mind, but her attempt at feigned tranquility was short-lived. 

The feeling of Orion’s body trembling quickly stole back her attention. She looked down in time to see tears leaking out from his clamped eyes, his hands shaking as pained whimpers fled his parted lips. 

“Orion,” she whispered, taking his hand into her own as she tried to quell his nightmare. But, it didn’t help. Nothing helped.

She opened her mouth to gently say his name again a moment before a harrowing scream left his lips and he frantically bolted upright, his eyes darting around the room as he tried to make sense of the world around him. It only took him a few moments for him to realize where he was, and his disorientation faded back to numbness. When her gaze met his, she was once again faced with the stare of someone who believed he had nothing left to live for-- someone who couldn’t escape his nightmares even when awake. 

“You’re okay,” she said softly, embracing his trembling frame in a tight hug. He didn’t return the gesture, but she just rubbed his back as she tried to soothe his high-strung nerves. 

When he pulled away, she saw her own memories within him-- memories of her agony in the days following every death she had to live through. Memories of the torture she endured every time she lost another person she loved. Memories of how she thought she wouldn’t be able to survive any more heartache. But, time had proved her wrong. Evidently, her heart could withstand much more pain than she had ever thought. 

“How do you breathe?” Orion asked, his voice quiet. 

She was surprised to hear him speak, gently asking, “What?”

“After everyone you’ve lost…” he muttered. “... how do you still manage to breathe?”

Her hand reached out and gently held onto his before she spoke. “Because I have always known that there are still people in my life worth breathing for. Even in the times in which I have felt alone-- as if everyone I have loved has left me-- I have still been surrounded by countless people who want me to be okay,” she said, squeezing his hand. “And every day that passes, it gets a little bit easier. It just takes time.”

He looked at the bed under him, silent tears falling onto the blanket. “I… I can’t live without her, Ava…” His voice broke when he said, “I c-can’t… I… I just… I  _ need _ her. I love her. I will  _ always _ love her.”

“You never really stop loving the people you lose,” she said softly. “And the people we lose are never truly gone. They live on through us with every breath that we breathe.”

“But she is,” he grumbled, rubbing at his bloodshot eyes furiously. “She is gone and it doesn’t matter how many fucking breaths I try to take in, she’s gone and she isn’t fucking coming back…” he said, shaking his head as his brows furrowed into a deep-set frown. She could see his anger building up inside him a moment before he stood up and started pacing back and forth. 

“Orion-”

“She’s  _ gone _ , Avalon!” he shouted, glaring daggers at her. “So don’t fucking try and tell me everything is going to be okay, because you and I both know that it isn’t! Don’t fucking lie to me!”

Somehow, she preferred his anger to his silence. So, she sat as he let it all out. 

“I’m not a bloody idiot! I know that it isn’t going to be okay! I found the other half of my soul in her and it was ripped away! And for what?! A fucking animal in the goddamn Forbidden Forest?!” he snarled, hot tears dripping down his face. “Fuck!” he blurted out, an instant before he grabbed Avalon’s empty teacup from the bedside table and threw it at the wall, letting out a furious grunt as it shattered into a million pieces.

She flinched at the sound, and when he saw her slight fear, he immediately came back to his senses. His eyes widened and he clasped his hand over his mouth, falling down onto the ground as he fell back into the throes of his agony. “I’m… so sorry,” he choked out before closing his eyes and trying to hold back his own cries again. 

Without a moment of hesitation, she crawled down onto the ground beside him and wrapped her arms around him. This time, though, he hugged her back, burying his head into her shoulder as his pain raked through his entire soul.

He shut his eyes, trying to stop his own tears when he felt something light land atop his nose. Cautiously, he opened his eyes to see a small yellow butterfly perched on his skin, gently batting its wings as he carefully pulled away from Avalon, letting out a dejected laugh as he carefully wiped away his tears. 

“It’s really hard to cry when there’s a butterfly on your nose,” she said, smiling softly as the tiny creature fluttered off his nose and onto his hand. Her eyes trailed to his hand and she watched as the butterfly faded into his skin, leaving behind a small, yellow imprint of its memory on his hand. “Now it’ll be with you all day.”

Orion stared at the temporary drawing on his skin and a slight semblance of a smile found its way onto his lips before he met her eyes. There was a moment of silence between them before he quietly said, “I love you.” His voice was tired and broken, but sincere. “I need to start telling people that more often before it’s…”

_ Before it’s too late.  _

He didn’t finish his sentence, but he didn’t have to. She knew exactly what he meant.

“I… I should have told her that more often,” he said under his breath, a look of hopelessness in his eyes.

“I love you so much,” she said, lifting her hand to wipe away his tears from his cheek. “And so did she.”

He sighed, wiping away his own tears before glancing around the room with a forlorn look in his eyes. “I can’t bear to look at all this green anymore,” he grumbled, shaking his head. 

“Do you want to go get breakfast?” she asked, unsure of what he would say. He hesitated for a moment and she asked, “When was the last time you ate?”

“Yesterday at lunch,” he admitted, avoiding her eyes. 

“You need to take care of yourself,” she said, rubbing his hand with her thumb. “Let’s get something to eat. Get dressed and I’ll grab Tom. I’ll be back in a minute.”

She waited for him to agree before she quickly left the room and walked to Tom’s dorm, quietly knocking on the door and waiting for him to open up. He answered the door not even a second later, immediately pulling her into his arms and dragging her into the room. His lips nestled atop her head, pressing soft kisses into her hair. 

“Hi,” she said, her voice tired. 

“You didn’t sleep,” he muttered, pulling back just enough to take note of her bloodshot, sunken eyes. 

“Neither did you,” she said, putting her hand on his cheek. She could always tell when he had a sleepless night-- it was something about the tone of his voice that gave away a sign of his true exhaustion. 

He sighed, not wanting to admit that he couldn’t fall asleep without her in his arms anymore. She had enough to worry about without feeling guilty for his lack of rest. Instead, he turned his head and kissed her hand. “How is he?”

“As you’d expect,” she replied, sadness in her eyes. 

“And how are you?”

“It’s not about me right now,” she said. 

“You’re allowed to not be alright, dove.” 

But, all she could do was offer him a bittersweet smile before saying, “Orion and I are going to get breakfast. Would you like to come?”

Of course, he nodded. So, the two of them walked back to Orion’s room. The blond opened the door a few moments after they knocked. 

He looked so different than he had a day ago, thought Tom. His ocean eyes had lost their light, his shoulders slumped, fingers trembled, and his skin was still littered with the ever-present trails left behind by his dried-up rivers of despair. 

Tom wished he could do something, or even say something, to help… but, he didn’t know what could possibly make this situation any better. So, he just placed a hand on Orion’s shoulder, earning at least a small, grateful glance from the dejected boy as they began their descent down the stairs. 

The sound of laughter became more and more prominent as they neared the common room. Avalon could hear the boys’ voices, but she couldn’t distinguish any words. All she knew was that while one of their best friends was grieving, the rest of them were going on with their lives as though one of their classmates hadn’t just died. Because they didn’t care about the lives of any muggle-borns. 

They had never cared. 

The moment the trio walked out into the open space, the carefree joy of the common room quickly died down. Lestrange and Rosier were sitting across from Nott and Mulciber. All of their eyes landed on Orion. 

But, instead of comfort… there was only disdain. 

In Lestrange’s eyes, disgust.

In Rosier’s, loathing.

In Mulciber’s, judgement.

But, the one that hurt the most was Nott. Because in his eyes, there was only disappointment. 

Orion couldn’t meet their eyes. He just kept walking, keeping his gaze on the ground below him as he strode to the door. But, as he walked by the people he had called brothers his entire life, he heard only three words come out of Mulciber’s mouth.

“Fucking blood traitor.”

Avalon put her arm around Orion, quickly ushering him out the door before any more damage could be inflicted. But, Tom lingered back a few steps, waiting for them to be nearly outside before he flicked his wrist toward Mulciber without even looking back, snapping the bone in his arm clean in half, closing the door before the sound of his scream could reach their ears. 

The three of them walked in silence toward the Great Hall. Nothing was said-- there was nothing to be said. 

Avalon and Tom were both too busy fuming to even attempt to keep up light conversation, and they didn’t suspect Orion was in a mood to talk, anyway. The thought of his closest friends turning on him because they suspected he loved a muggle-born… 

Avalon wanted to make each one of them pay. 

Tom wanted to end them all. 

Orion wanted it to just be over. 

As they made their way toward breakfast, they were all painfully aware of how many stares were being sent Orion’s way by their peers. Some were critical, others curious, but all were evidently aware of how the school’s favorite Beater had run out of the Great Hall upon hearing the news of Clara Bell’s death. Rumors spread faster than wildfires, and the whole student body was already talking about how the pure-blood Slytherin favorite had been in love with a muggle-born Hufflepuff all along. 

They walked into the Great Hall and tried to ignore the countless eyes that followed them. Avalon couldn’t bear to look at how empty Hufflepuff’s table was. It was obvious they were mourning, though the absence of one particular strawberry-blonde girl was what stung the most. 

The trio sat at the end of the Ravenclaw table. It seemed out of the question to sit where they typically did, seeing as most of the harshest stares were coming from the Slytherin side of the Hall. 

Orion slumped forward in his seat, propping his head upon his hands as he stared at the food before him. Avalon grabbed a bread roll and tried to lightheartedly push it toward his face, but he didn’t even glance toward her, making her despondently set it back down on his plate. 

None of them had much of an appetite, but for Orion’s sake, Avalon and Tom both tried to force themselves to eat, hoping their friend would join in. But, he didn’t. 

He didn’t even look up until the sound of an owl screeching disrupted the peace in the Hall. Orion glanced up just in time to see a familiar owl soaring above them, dropping a red envelope right in front of him. 

Avalon and Tom’s eyes both widened when they saw the Howler fall onto the table. 

Orion let out an incredulous laugh, his eyes still glued to the letter. “That’s my father’s owl.” He shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment as he tried to clear his thoughts. Just as Avalon opened her mouth to say something, he took out his wand and pointed it at the letter, burning it to ashes. The three of them sat in silence more another moment before he muttered, “That fucking bastard.” He got out of his seat, starting to walk away without another word. 

Avalon and Tom both quickly scrambled to their feet, but Orion turned to face them, his words stopping them in their tracks. “I need time alone.”

Avalon began to protest. “Orion-”

“You’ve both done so much for me already. Please, I just need to be by myself for a bit,” he pleaded, his voice tired. 

Neither one of them wanted to let him go, but reluctantly, Avalon sighed and walked to him, giving him a hug. “We will see you later.”

He hugged her back, mumbling a quiet thank you into her ear before she pulled away and Tom walked over, putting his hand on Orion’s shoulder. “Find us if you need anything,” he said a moment before Orion sighed and pulled him in for a hug, too. Tom was, at first, caught off guard, but returned his friend’s embrace shortly after. They both let go and Orion offered them a bittersweet smile before waving and walking back toward his room. 

As he strode through the castle, he did his best to not meet anyone’s eyes. He didn’t want to see their judgement. Nor did he lift his gaze from the ground. He didn’t want to come face to face with the same halls where he and Clara had roamed together in the latest hours of their midnight rendezvous. 

Every hallway was her memory. Every ray of sun was her smile. Every songbird chirping was her voice. Every flower was her spirit. 

And everything was his loss. 

He stumbled all the way back to the Slytherin dorms. But, he fucking hated that he had to go there. He hated that house. He hated everything about it. 

He wished he hadn’t begged the fucking Sorting Hat to put him in Slytherin. He wished he hadn’t surrounded himself with the worst people for so long. He wished he had just run away with her and never looked back. 

But instead, he was walking through an empty common room, the green of the lake casting a solemn shadow on the whole bloody space. 

He fucking hated that color. 

He fucking hated green. 

His feet dragged him into his room and he slammed the door behind him, his breathing labored as he tried to calm his own nerves. Everything was wrong. Everything was broken. Nothing was fair. 

Nott’s side of the room remained just as untouched as before. Animosity burned through his eyes as he stared at the framed moving photos of the two of them-- there were pictures from their childhood up until their most recent Quidditch matches. 

Brothers. 

He had thought they were brothers. 

“Fuck!” he screamed, grabbing one of Nott’s Quidditch trophies off the nearest shelf and throwing it at the wall. Watching it snap in half made him feel no better, but he didn’t care anymore. He wanted to destroy it all. 

But, just as he was raising his hand to grab another item off the shelf, his eyes landed on a piece of paper on his own bed that hadn’t been there before. He narrowed his eyes on the parchment, slowly walking forward and picking it up. 

When he read the words in the letter, he felt his blood run cold. 

_ ‘Come to the second-floor girl’s bathroom if you want to know what really happened to your girlfriend.’ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Popping in to let you all know that I've created a Spotify account just for this story! I'm creating playlists for each character and pairing, and releasing them individually as each character's arc is revealed. Listen to the songs in order for the best experience :)
> 
> Follow and Listen to Clara's Playlist : https://open.spotify.com/user/udx6am93j5kusjg7v9ycbm7r3?si=5zO8CpY3Q86P7Dt0p8ujpw


	58. Chapter 58

Orion stared at the letter, his hands trembling as a million thoughts swirled through his brain. 

He couldn’t think straight. Everything came rushing to him all at once: confusion, fear, heartache… anger. 

The mere thought of his beloved’s death being anything more than an accident made every inch of his body burn with a rage that had never once inhabited him before-- this was unlike anything he had ever experienced. This was personal, and he was furious. 

Without even a moment of thought, he shoved the letter into his pocket, grabbed his wand, and ran toward the second-floor girl’s bathroom. The world around him was nothing more than a backdrop to his full-fledged desperation. He stormed across the castle, avoiding his peer’s eyes as he scrambled to get to where he needed to be. His thoughts were plagued with all the possible worst-case scenarios. 

None of them scared him much. He was already living in his worst-case scenario. And he couldn’t think of a possible way that life could hurt him any more than it already had. Because he had nothing left to fucking lose. 

The hallway leading to the bathroom was eerily quiet. No students dared venture to that part of the castle-- not anymore, anyway. But, Orion didn’t care--he wasn’t afraid. Call it bravery or call it recklessness, either way, he was fearless. Nothing would stop him from finding out what the hell had happened to the love of his life. Because there isn’t a thing more dangerous than a grieving soul, and he knew that better than anyone. 

His hands shoved on the wooden doors leading to the bathroom, swinging them wide open as he cautiously walked in, his wand in his hands. The space looked empty. Cool air danced on his skin while his eyes scanned around, desperate to find a clue-- any clue-- of why he was there. 

But, it appeared as though the space was deserted. The serenity was almost eerie-- as though the air were ridden with secrets that were desperate to break free. The quiet was not calming, nor did it allow him a moment to think. It was quite the opposite. In his isolation, he was met with even more questions. Questions that he needed answered. Questions that he refused to leave alone.

The sound of the door slamming shut behind Orion startled him enough for him to whip around, but there was nobody there. Instead, he heard footsteps slowly creep out from behind the towering, stone sinks. 

“You never could resist a secret meeting, could you?”

Orion felt his heart sink as he turned around, feeling sick to his stomach as he came face to face with someone he had once called a friend. His fingers shakily reached into his pocket, taking out the letter and staring incredulously at Lestrange. “You…” 

“You don’t look pleased to see me,” chuckled the spoiled heir, grinning down at his wand before summoning the letter into his hands, turning it to ashes in his grasp. “For a moment, I thought you’d keep me waiting here all day.”

“What the fuck do you want, Lestrange?” hissed Orion. He could not-- nor did he want to-- hide the disgust in his tone when he spoke to the boy. 

“That’s no way to speak to an old friend, is it?” gasped Xavier, a look of feigned hurt on his sadistic face. “I only wished to talk, that’s all.”

“I have nothing to say to you,” said Orion, turning to head back toward the door. 

“So you don’t want to hear what happened to your little girlfriend?”

Orion stopped in his tracks, clenching his fists as he slowly turned back around, facing Lestrange once more. “Don’t you dare speak of her.” 

Xavier shrugged, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Alright, alright. Perfectly fine. Let’s talk about our dear friend Avalon, then. Shall we?” His eyes held a derangement in them that had never once faded since the night of his torture. It was as though he was empty-- soulless. There was no humanity left in him. All that remained was a demented and crazed ghost of the person he once was. Orion’s grip tightened around his wand, but he listened as Lestrange continued speaking. “Avalon, Avalon, Avalon… lovely girl... quite intelligent... rather brave... strong. And charming, too. So much so that it appears she has managed to meddle with the course of destiny, itself. I tried to stop her-- really, I did. Perhaps, if our boy, Tom, hadn’t saved her from the boggart that I managed to lure her to, we could have all been spared quite a good deal of trouble.” 

Orion’s eyes widened. “You son of a-”

Xavier reached into his coat, pulling out Tom’s black leather diary before holding it up for Orion to see. “Do you know what this is?”

Orion felt his blood run cold. He shook his head, his denial overtaking him as he said under his breath, “Tom destroyed that already…”

“He would have,” grinned the delirious boy. “In fact, if I hadn’t heard the two of you screaming at one another in your room, maybe he would have succeeded. You know, you really do need to start using silencing charms when discussing important matters,” he said, smirking as he motioned toward the door. Orion felt a rising sense of unease as he became aware that the bathroom had been muted from the inside. The outside world could not hear them. “Though, in a sense, I suppose I owe my life to your negligence.”

“What are you going on about?” Orion said, his frustration growing by the second.

“You saved me, you really did. Because I made a Vow to Riddle. I swore to him-- on my life-- that if he was ever weakened, I would revive him with this,” he said, waving the diary. When he laughed, it wasn’t a joyous sound. It was chilling. Evil. Crazed. Orion felt sick to his stomach when he thought about the countless years he had spent calling the boy his friend. “After I heard your little… conversation… I knew the bastard was going to try and destroy them, himself. Love is, after all,  _ weakness _ .”

“You switched the diary…” Orion said breathlessly, glaring at the smiling boy before him. 

“Wasn’t all that difficult. Simple transfiguration spell on an old book and a couple of added curses to mimic the pain of destroying your soul and…” he winked. “... _ Voilà _ .” 

Orion paused a moment, trying to collect his swirling thoughts. The sudden admissions were messing with his mind, though his anger was growing more and more by the second and overpowering all else. “Why are you telling me this?” 

“You wanted to know what happened to your girlfriend, didn’t you?” He let out a dramatic sigh, shaking his head as he looked at the diary in his hands. “I need Riddle back. Not the one Hendrix has tainted. The old one. The strong one. The one still in here,” he said, tapping the cover of the book. “And to bring him back, the diary required me to pay a price… a life for a life.”

The realization came crashing on Orion as a tidal wave of fury. But, as he lifted his wand at the laughing heir, Xavier quickly shot a disarming spell at him. His wand went flying out of his hand and onto the ground, leaving Lestrange the opportunity to point his own wand directly at Orion’s chest. “The diary required a sacrifice, and I had to choose whose blood I was willing to spill. Wasn’t much of a difficult choice, really. I thought Bell would be a rather deserving target, seeing as she thought she was worthy of a pureblood’s love. And when I led her to a feral Graphorn in the Forest, I thought things finally fell into place. Unfortunately, it wasn’t quite as simple as that, though…” he said, rolling his eyes as he added, “... Even the diary didn’t accept her mudblood. It appeared to require a pure-blood sacrifice. So, I reckon I’ll just use the blood traitor.”

Orion wanted to kill him. 

He was going to kill him.

And he didn’t care if he didn’t have his wand. He was going to murder the son of a bitch with his bare fucking hands. 

He lunged at Xavier, tackling him to the ground with a force so great that it knocked the boy’s wand and the diary straight out of his hands. The two of them grappled with each other on the floor for a few moments, both boys fighting with every ounce of strength in their bodies-- because they knew that one way or another, this was a fight to the death.

Lestrange managed to hoist himself over Avery, drawing his balled fist back and colliding it with the boy’s jaw. But, it barely phased the blond. His blue eyes stared up at Lestrange with such a burning hatred that it felt as though he could kill with one look alone. 

Xavier tried to throw another punch, but Orion’s pure rage fired a beast within him that wouldn’t be satisfied until it had blood on his hands. He was beyond the point of self-control. His anger had consumed him, turning him into the most crazed version of himself. And he didn’t care. He wanted to watch the life drain out of Lestrange’s eyes. Without too much struggle, he quickly pinned the dark-haired boy to the ground, his gaze fervent with a fury that had swallowed him whole. 

“Fuck you,” he snarled, his adrenaline-fueled strength overpowering Xavier’s thrashing body with ease.

He was going to kill Lestrange.

His arm drew back and he crashed his fist into Xavier’s face, a sickening crunch resulting from the impact of his nose crushing underneath Orion’s vehemence. The boy let out a pained grunt a moment before Orion grabbed him by his shoulders and lifted him up just enough to throw him violently back against the ground, colliding his body with the stone floor. 

He didn’t care if he didn’t have his wand. He didn’t need it. It was only fitting that Lestrange would meet his end in the most barbaric, non-magical way. The boy didn’t deserve a quick finish, nor was Orion willing to give him one. He was going to drain the life from his body and make the bastard pay for everything he had done. 

Punch after punch after punch after punch. Orion could feel bones smashing beneath his hands, but he didn’t care-- not one bit. He would crush that worthless coward beneath him if it was the last thing he ever did. 

Xavier’s hands tried to grasp onto Orion’s jaw, attempting to shove away the belligerent blond, but it was to no avail. Instead, Orion merely moved his hands down onto Lestrange’s neck, his grasp tightening around him as he began to squeeze the life out of the worthless being beneath him. 

He could see Xavier’s eyes widening, a look of pure fear entering his gaze as he struggled against his grasp, desperate to free himself from his imminent death. But, every time he tried to fight against Orion, the blond only tightened his grasp even more, his feral blue eyes desperate to see the boy beneath him gasp out his own last words.

His fury had deafened him, replacing the world around him with nothing more than the sound of his own heart beating loudly through his chest. He heard nothing. Not the quiet dripping of the water onto the stone floors, not the choking breaths leaving Lestrange’s lips, not the door opening behind them, and not the footsteps that entered soon after. 

_ “Incarcerous!” _

The blast hit Orion’s back like a paralyzing canon, knocking him off Xavier and onto the ground as thick ropes wrapped around his body, binding his limbs tightly against his body. He tried to fight against the constraints, but his struggle only tightened their grasp around him until his movements were rendered useless and he fell down onto the ground, writhing in his own fury. 

He could only just move his head enough to turn his gaze and see Rosier slowly walking over, his wand still pointed at Orion’s grappling body. “You fucking bastard!” Orion shouted, his entire soul aflame with an unadulterated wrath.

Xavier frantically shoved himself off the ground, coughing out frantically to try and allow oxygen to flow back into his tortured windpipes. He caught his breath before spitting a mouthful of blood onto the ground beside him while he stared at Orion angrily. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Took you long enough,” he grumbled as he made his way over to his wand and picked it back up, casting a healing spell on himself as he fixed his broken bones and rid himself of the already budding bruises that littered his skin. He grumbled out a string of profanities under his breath as he walked toward the nearest mirror and looked at his reflection, letting out a sigh of relief when he was met with the sight of his favorite thing-- his own pristine face.

“Evidently, not a second too late,” replied Rosier cooly, staring down at Orion with disdain in his eyes. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small green vial and tossing it to Xavier who caught it in mid-air. “It just finished brewing.”

Orion’s heartbeat sped up when he caught sight of the poison in Lestrange’s grasp, but the harder he tried to break free of his confines and get back to his feet, the ropes would only bind tighter against him. 

Xavier grinned at the potion, a ruthless look in his clouded eyes. “It’s a shame, really. You could have lived quite a nice life, Avery. But, you threw it all away for a mudblood,” he said, reveling in the hatred Orion was glaring toward him. He slowly made his way back toward the angry boy on the ground, looming over him with far too much satisfaction written on his twisted lips.

“Shut your fucking mouth,” growled Orion, once again thrashing against the ropes around his body. 

Xavier chuckled, slowly kneeling down beside him before he said, “You should have heard how she cried out for you.” At that moment, Orion spat at Xavier’s face, his breathing labored as he became incapable of controlling his fervent hatred. Lestrange stumbled back, a mixture of disgust and animosity in his eyes as he wiped furiously at his face. A second later, he reached into his pocket and pulled out Clara’s promise ring, throwing it on the ground before Orion. “It was the most pathetic thing I had ever heard.”

And that was it. That was the last line that broke Orion Avery beyond repair. Because in that moment, he was forced to come to the crushing realization that Clara had died because of people that he had introduced into her life. The people he surrounded himself with murdered the love of his life-- and that was a truth that crushed him more than his fear ever could. 

Tears slipped out of the corner of his eyes, but it wasn’t clear if they were out of despair, anger, or sheer hopelessness. Xavier saw the drops falling down his cheek, a self-assured look branding his soulless eyes. “No need to cry. Your death won’t be nearly as gruesome as hers. Lucky for you, we are not idiots.”

“Another mysterious death following Bell’s as well as Hendrix’s boggart attack would draw far too much suspicion,” said Adonis, his face devoid of any emotion as he spoke. 

Xavier slowly twisted the cap off the poison, looking at it as though it were the answer to all his prayers. “What do you think Hendrix will think when she learns of your… suicide?” 

“You’ll never get away with this,” snarled Orion, though he had given up on fighting against the tight restraints around him. He had tried to summon his wand into his hands, but unskilled in wordless magic, he could only stare hopelessly at the discarded wand as it refused to budge. The world was closing in on him-- he could feel it coming like a suffocating black cloud shrouding his soul.

“Hear that, Adonis?” Lestrange gasped, turning to his friend with a feigned look of shock on his face. “We are done for!” 

Rosier strode forward, twirling his wand in his hands. “Who do you suppose will stop us?”

“Perhaps Riddle?” shrugged Lestrange. He then turned back to Orion, his familiar, arrogant smile returning to his upturned lips. “If he gets the chance to before he’s dead, that is,” he said, laughing. “You didn’t really think we’d let the coward live, did you? He’s chosen his side, as have you. Once the old Riddle is revived, we must only wait for the right opportunity to… replace him.” 

“Rot… in… Hell…” spat Orion, refusing to back down from Xavier’s self-assured stare. 

The dark-haired boy shrugged, his smile ever-present on his lips as he said, “I’ll keep that in mind…  _ Imperio _ .”

\------

Avalon sat with Tom atop his bed, staring blankly at the space in front of her. She couldn’t stop thinking about Orion. She wanted to give him space as he had requested, but she also knew-- better than anyone-- that grief was all-consuming when dealt with alone.

“We should check up on him,” she muttered, her bloodshot eyes drifting weakly toward the door as she shakily stood up, no longer capable of holding herself back. 

Tom caught her wrist, his voice equally dejected when he said, “He said he wants to be alone. We should allow him his privacy, no?”

“Of course he said that,” she said, biting the inside of her cheek. “Nobody means it, though. We should be there for him.”

Tom nodded, sighing as he stood up and followed her out of the room. They walked slowly down the hall, stopping outside of Orion’s dorm before she quietly knocked on his door. There was no answer, so she put her face near the wooden frame and softly called out, “Orion?” 

Still, nobody came. She glanced at Tom, a look of confusion in her eyes before she gently pushed the door open, herself. When they peeked inside, the room was empty. She noted the shattered trophy on the ground, but aside from that, everything remained untouched. Axel’s half of the dorm was still in pristine shape-- it appeared the Seeker had yet to return to their room since learning of his roommate’s relationship. 

“He’s not in here,” she said, a growing pit of unease in her stomach as she turned to Tom. The frantic look in her eyes made him pull her into his arms and place his hand on her cheek, trying to ease her nerves.

“He likely needed air. We can go look for him, though,” he offered, but his voice lacked its usual sense of certainty. It appeared their friend’s unexplained absence had put Tom on edge, too. She nodded, trying to push back her worries, though the effort was fruitless. Something felt morbidly wrong and she couldn’t quite fend her fears. 

Quickly, the pair made their way out of the Slytherin dorms and began to look all around the castle. They checked every single spot that they could possibly imagine Orion going to.

They went to the Greenhouses. Nothing.

They went to the Quidditch pitch. Nothing.

They went to the Kitchens. Nothing.

They went to the Room of Requirement. Nothing. 

Every single spot they checked, they were met with nothing more than nothingness. And every second that passed by, Avalon felt her worries grow more and more within her. 

She sensed that something was wrong. Well, in a way, everything was wrong-- that much she knew. But, there was something different. Something she couldn’t quite pinpoint, but she knew it was worth being afraid of. 

What scared her even more was the concern she saw in Tom’s eyes. Because for someone who rarely showed his fear, even he appeared to be unsettled. 

They refused to let up on their search, scouring every single spot that they could possibly think of that their friend might have run off to. Seconds turned to minutes turned to hours, but they refused to give up. 

They ran into Zelda. When they asked her if she had seen him, she wasn’t capable of giving them any more knowledge than they already had. So, they asked other students-- desperate to see if anyone had seen the Slytherin golden boy. 

Nothing. 

All they got was nothing. 

A few students said that they had seen him leave his room earlier, but they hadn’t a single clue where he could have gone. So, once again, they were left empty-handed. 

They stopped for a moment by the staircase, attempting to collect their thoughts as they thought of any other possible places that they could search. Tom was facing her, his back turned to the stairs as he held her hand. “It’s going to be okay,” he said. “I’m sure he’s only-”

But, he cut his words off when he saw her eyes narrow on something behind him. 

Avalon hesitantly peeked her head around his shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of the sight before her. But, what she saw drained her face of all color.

Two downcast Healers walked carefully down the stairs, carrying down a stretcher draped with a white sheet. From underneath, though, hung a lifeless hand… a yellow butterfly still etched on its skin. 

The world faded to black and white. She couldn’t hear Tom calling out her name and she couldn’t look away from the scene before her. And, when she fell to her knees, a soul-crushing scream ripped through her hoarse throat, her unbridled agony shattering all the lanterns in the hallway to a million shards of broken glass the moment she lost control of herself and felt her grief come crashing down on her. Because she couldn’t hold it in anymore. 

It had finally consumed her.


	59. Chapter 59

Avalon had felt the pain of grief before-- many times. But, nothing had ever compared to the way her soul ripped apart when she saw Orion’s lifeless hand hanging from beneath the covered stretcher. 

Sharp shards of broken glass rained down on the hallway when she fell to her knees and screamed, shattering the lanterns around them as her unbridled torment overtook her senses. 

She lost control. 

Of her restraint. Of her pain. Of herself. 

Of her power.

Every single ounce of heartache she had ever endured came rushing back to her the moment her eyes landed on Orion’s still body. Every single repressed emotion flooded back, shattering her from the inside and leaving her completely broken. 

The pain of Orion’s death. The pain of Clara’s death. The pain of Harry’s death. The pain of Fred’s death. Sirius’s death. Remus’s death. Tonks’s death. Lavender’s death. Cedric’s death. Dumbledore’s death. Dobby’s death. Hermione’s torture. Her own torture. Memories of the war. Not knowing where her aunt was. Not knowing where Ron was. Not knowing who had lived, and not knowing who had died. Watching the bodies of her friends be paraded through the streets. Listening to the radio and hearing the names of their allies in lists of the murdered. 

She couldn’t contain it anymore. 

She couldn’t. 

Because no matter how strong she was, she had hit her breaking point.

The sound of her screams didn’t reach her own ears, but the burn of her throat was enough for her to know that they were ripping through her. Her entire body was violently shaking, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the body of her best friend. 

It felt like she’d lost a part of herself. 

The ground beneath her began to shake, the stones starting to crack as her irrepressible power tore through her body in a wave of rampant grief. She couldn’t make sense of the world around her, nor could she feel Tom quickly fall to his knees beside her and try to calm her down. 

Tom was afraid. Not of her, but for her. 

Her fists were balled so tightly that he could see drops of crimson seeping out from where her nails were clawing relentlessly into her flesh. Her eyes were completely empty-- no semblance of anything hidden behind the blank stare adorned on her face. The veins on her arms slowly changed color, a horrific, inky black tainting her bloodstream as the darkness of her overwhelming anguish overtook her senses. 

“Avalon, please, look at me,” he begged her, trying to get her attention off Orion’s lifeless body. But, she couldn’t even hear his words. Her mind was in shambles, the world around her fading to nothingness. When he saw the veins beneath her eyes starting to turn black, he was overtaken with dread-- he had never seen her like this. 

Tom had heard of wizards and witches losing control of their magic in times of full-blown grief, but he had never seen it happen to anyone he knew. Watching as her own power consumed her was heartbreaking and horrifying all at once. Because he knew that she was putting herself in danger, too. 

He tried to wrap his arms around her, but her skin scorched him the moment he touched her. She had willingly burned him twice before, but this time was different. This time, she wasn’t in control of it. And the burn was unbearable. 

His eyes widened when he saw the way her own skin was starting to singe itself-- her flesh began to burn in patches, leaving a trail of blisters and discolored skin as her agony slowly began to eat herself alive bit by bit. It was destroying her from the inside out, and she couldn’t control it. 

She was breaking down right before his eyes and there was nothing he could do to help her. 

“Dove, please,” he pleaded, needing her to just look at him-- but she was lost. 

A crowd of onlookers had slowly trickled in, hearing her screams and feeling the ground shake beneath them. Madam Bardot ran out from the crowd, quickly scurrying over to Tom and Avalon. 

“Dear Heavens,” breathed out the Healer under her breath, her eyes frantic as she stood before the couple. “Avalon, dearest, I need you to listen to me-”

But, Avalon’s screams of torment only changed to shouts of pain as the magic inside her began to physically destroy her. She dragged her eyes slowly toward Tom, but there was fear in her stare. Because she couldn’t stop what was happening to herself and she didn’t know what to do.

“You’re going to be okay,” Tom said, trying to hold back the worry in his voice as he reached out and took a hold of her hand. It scorched his skin instantly, but he did his best to push the pain to the side and let her squeeze his hand. Her grip was desperate, afraid, and trembling. 

Quickly, the Healer took out her wand and pointed it at Avalon. 

And, everything faded to nothingness. 

Complete and utter nothingness.

Tom caught her just a moment before her body slumped to the ground, her skin cooling down as soon as Madam Bardot sedated her. He could hear shocked murmurs from the people around them as they took in the sight of not only Orion, but also Avalon. 

And, as he slowly pried his eyes off her tranquilized body, he was finally forced to watch as the two Healers continued carrying the stretcher down the stairs, through the growing crowd.

He could hear the whispers around them but tried to block them out. He didn’t want to hear it. Because he knew what they were saying and he didn’t want to think about it. 

_ ‘Orion Avery is dead.’ _

\-------

Sniffling. 

Avalon woke up to the sound of sniffling. 

She opened her eyes to see Zelda sitting beside her on one end of the bed, tears streaming down her cheeks as she tried to pat them dry with a tissue. Tom was perched on the other end, holding her hand and rubbing circles into her skin. 

When they noticed she was awake, they both glanced at her, but neither could wipe the downcast looks off their faces.

“H-hi,” stammered out Zelda, trying to force a smile. Her bloodshot eyes gave far too much away, though. 

A part of Avalon had thought that when she woke up, she would realize everything had been a nightmare. But, it appeared as though that was far too hopeful of a wish. Because staring at her roommate and her boyfriend before her, the anguish in their eyes was far too great to ignore. 

It was growing harder and harder for her to tell her nightmares from reality nowadays. 

“What happened?” she croaked out, her hoarse voice barely more than a whisper. 

“You… lost control of your magic,” said Zelda quietly. “It was nearly killing you. They had to sedate you to stop you from hurting yourself… you’ve been out for about five hours-”

“No,” she said, cutting off her roommate. “ _ What happened? _ ” she repeated, narrowing her eyes on them. She wanted to know about Orion-- they both knew that. But, neither one wanted to tell her.

Tom and Zelda looked at one another, as if afraid to speak. She hated that look. She hated how neither one of them said anything. She hated how she didn’t know what was going on and she hated that she couldn’t fix it. 

“Just tell me,” she said, her tone equal parts distraught and agitated. 

“They…” Tom started, taking in a deep breath and closing his eyes before speaking again. “They concluded that they found… self-administered poison in his system.” 

“No,” she said, shaking her head as tears brimmed her eyes. “He can’t… he… he isn’t… n-no… he wouldn’t... No.”

Tom looked down at the ground, incapable of meeting her eyes for a moment before he reached into his pocket and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper. Reluctantly, he held it out for her and whispered, “They found this on his body.”

Her eyes trailed down to the parchment and she shakily reached out and grabbed it. She made a conscious effort to make sure she didn’t rip any of its edges as she unfolded it and scanned the short message scribbled onto it. 

_ ‘To my friends and family-- I am sorry that I wasn’t strong enough.’ _

It was his handwriting. But she just shook her head. 

“No,” she breathed out. She couldn’t pry her eyes off the paper. There were dried tear stains on it. “No… he wouldn’t...” 

He wouldn’t…

_ Right? _

But, she couldn’t stop thinking about the events of the past few days. Orion had lost the love of his life. His soulmate was found dead and he never even got a chance to say goodbye. His childhood best friends-- people he called his brothers for years-- turned against him instead of comforting him. And his parents… his parents were clearly disappointed at the news of his relationship, too. 

Orion had lost  _ everything _ in a matter of days. 

Avalon felt herself let out a choked sob as tears began streaming down her face once more. She looked around, visions of seeing Clara’s body in this same infirmary just yesterday flooding her senses. And no matter how hard she tried not to think about it, she knew that Orion’s body had likely been here several hours ago, too. 

It suddenly felt suffocating in that Hospital Wing. 

“I need to get out of here,” she stammered out, trying to prop herself off the bed. Tom quickly steadied her, stopping her from leaving. 

“You need to rest, dove,” he said, his voice just as drained as hers. 

“No, I need to get out of here,” she repeated, hot tears streaming down her face. “I need to get out!” Madam Bardot quickly rushed over, hearing the commotion. “I’m not staying here,” she declared, a frantic look in her eyes as she stood up, ignoring the protests from those around her. 

“Dearest, you need to calm down,” said Madam Bardot gently, reaching out and taking a hold of her wrist. 

But, Avalon yanked herself free, glaring daggers at everyone around her. When they all took a step forward, she felt as though the walls were closing in on her. Her tears wouldn’t stop falling down her cheeks, dripping onto the floor in a downpour of her broken heart. The world felt like it was spinning. 

Madam Bardot took another step forward, slowly reaching for her wand again as Avalon’s eyes grew more and more bewildered. She felt her grief bubbling inside her, threatening to overtake her once more. When the Healer took another step forward, Avalon let out another pained scream and held her head in her hands, doubling over as a gust of power shoved the three people around her backward. 

Tom could see her losing control of herself once more. He watched as Madam Bardot got ready to sedate Avalon, but before she got a chance to, he slowly began to step toward his distraught girlfriend. 

She was choking on her own cries, but he cautiously walked toward her, holding his hands up to make sure she knew that he wasn’t trying to use any magic on her. 

“Dove, please,” he said quietly. “Look at me.” When her eyes met his, he felt his heart wrench at just how broken she truly looked. He didn’t imagine he looked much better. Slowly, he walked closer and closer, letting out a slight sigh of relief when she let him close the gap between them. He gently put his hand on her cheek, wiping away her tears with his thumb. “I love you,” he said so quietly that only she could hear. For a moment, it felt as though they were the only two people there, and he saw her eyes return to normal for a fraction of a second. “What do you need?”

The bewilderment faded from her gaze, subduing to pure desperation when she softly said, “I need to leave… please.”

He nodded, kissing the top of her head. “Okay,” he said before motioning for Zelda to come over for a moment and be with Avalon while he went and spoke to Madam Bardot privately in the corner of the Wing. Avalon watched the two of them speaking while Zelda embraced her, but she couldn’t make out any of their words. All she knew was that a few moments later, Tom walked over without the Healer and said, “Let’s go.”

“Take her to our room,” said Zelda, offering a weak smile. She knew that Avalon wouldn’t want to spend time in Slytherin’s dorms right now. It would be far too painful of a reminder of what she had lost. “I think I’m going to… spend the night with Jane.”

“Will you be alright?” asked Tom. 

“I don’t think any of us will be for quite some time,” said Zelda softly. “But, you don’t have to worry about me. Take care of yourselves, please.”

“I love you,” said Avalon quietly, walking forward and giving her roommate a weak hug. She had learned, better than anyone, how important it was to say that to people before it was too late. 

“I love you, too,” replied Zelda. “I’ll see you soon.”

She left before Tom and Avalon, but they headed out shortly after her. They walked in silence. Tom kept his arms wrapped around her as they made their way to Ravenclaw Tower, but even he didn’t have the energy to try and talk. 

The castle was near empty. After the news of Orion’s death, nearly everyone had gone back to their rooms for the day. Losing two students in the course of two days had left a horrible shroud of darkness lingering in the air. Few people were in the mood to stray far from their dorms. 

They walked up to the eagle-shaped door knocker at the entrance of the Ravenclaw common room and awaited the riddle. 

_ “The more of this there is, the less you see. What is it?” _

“Darkness,” answered Tom. 

The door slowly creaked open and they entered. The common room was nearly empty. Only a few younger students sat on the couches, though none of them spoke. The eerie quiet was unnerving and Tom quickly led Avalon back to her own room, trying to get them back into the comfort of their own privacy as soon as possible. 

When they reached her room, Tom locked the door behind them. But, from the moment they stepped inside, her eyes landed on the window, staring out at the night sky. All she could think about were the times when Orion had flown up to that very window and burst in through her room. How he would stumble in, a goofy smile always painted onto his grinning lips as his eyes shone with the twinkle of a thousand stars. 

Her head started to spin again. 

He should be there.

He should be alive.

He should be okay.

But, he wasn’t. 

And neither was Clara. 

They were gone. Both of them were gone. 

Her tears began to prick at her eyes once more, her sadness taking turns with her anger as she stormed over to her bedside table and hastily opened up the drawer. Tom watched her take out the small, golden time-turner. “We need to fix this,” she stammered out. 

“Avalon…”

“We… we need to fix it,” she repeated, dialing the time-turner back and staring at it hopelessly. But, nothing happened. It didn’t work. And she had known that it wouldn’t work, but a part of her had still hoped that Orion had been wrong about it only being able to go into the future. Her fingers trembled as she stared spitefully at the trinket in her hands, wanting more than anything else to throw it at the wall and watch it shatter before her eyes. She kept trying to twist the turner back to the past, but nothing worked. All she could do was keep saying under her breath, “We… we need to fix it.”

He walked over, gently taking the turner out of her grasp and setting it back on the table. He took her into his arms and held her as she sobbed, her entire body shaking as she tried to come to terms with the harsh reality in front of her. 

Orion and Clara were gone and she couldn’t reverse time and fix it.

Time.

It was such a horrible thing.

He gently took her coat off her shoulders, slinging it over the back of her chair before leading her to her bed. He lifted the blanket and watched as she crawled underneath. A moment later, he climbed in after her, wrapping his arms around her and embracing her trembling figure in his warm hold. 

She couldn’t stop the tears from spilling down her face. It hurt. Everything hurt. Her heart hurt. Her soul hurt. It all hurt so much. But, as she rested her head atop his chest, the sound of his beating heart calmed her breathing-- if only just a little. 

They sat in silence for quite some time. Neither one had the right words-- they didn’t exist. Because in times like this, there is nothing that anyone can say that could possibly make any of the pain go away. 

She was used to losing people that she loved. But, there was something so incredibly unfair about Orion’s death… she couldn’t fathom it. 

Her friends had fought willingly in a war that they were prepared to die for. They had all risked their lives for a cause that they believed was worth it. Every single one of them knew that there was a chance that they could die at any moment-- and they had accepted that. They had signed up for it. And, as much as their deaths hurt, she knew that each and every one of them had been prepared to die for their fight.

Orion and Clara… they were not at war. They were not soldiers. They were not fighters.

They were lovers. 

Lovers who were dealt an unfair hand. The universe did not give them the ending that they had deserved. And that was what haunted her more than anything. 

“He’s gone,” she said quietly, her voice so weak that he barely heard her speak. “They’re both just… gone.” She thought of her last conversations with Orion, her eyes once again flooding with her anguish. “He… he told me that he couldn’t live without her and I… I didn’t think he meant… I should have… I.. I just left him  _ alone _ and-”

“Shhh,” he sighed dejectedly, kissing the top of her head. “Don’t think that way. You couldn’t have known. None of us could have known.” But, even he couldn’t go a minute without blaming himself for not staying beside Orion for longer. 

Tom stroked her hair, keeping her close to him as he stared blankly at the wall before him. A few moments passed before she pulled back just enough to put her hand on his cheek. He looked down at her, his tired eyes meeting hers. “How are you doing?” she asked softly.

“I…” his voice trailed off as he tried to put what he was feeling into words. He didn’t quite know how to answer that. There was a pain in his chest that he couldn’t describe. It was a dull ache-- one that felt as though it plagued his entire spirit, but he didn’t have the words for it. All he knew was that it hurt. “It shouldn’t have been them. They didn’t deserve it.”

They didn’t. 

Both she and Tom knew that. 

She sighed, clinging to him once more as her grief flooded her again. Her tears were neverending-- consistently coming back and drowning her in her overwhelming sorrow. It was hard to not feel as though she were being pushed underwater. It felt as though everything was too much to bear. 

But, as the two of them laid in bed together, she let her tears fall down onto his chest. Silence enveloped them once more, but all she could focus on was the feeling of small drops of water trickling down onto the top of her head. 

She looked up, taking note of the glistening tears falling down Tom’s cheeks. His brows were furrowed, a look of frustration etched onto his features. He angrily wiped at his eyes, muttering, “It shouldn’t have fucking been them.”

It occurred to her that Tom had never lost anyone that he cared about before-- he had never had anyone to lose. 

So, gently, she wiped away his tears and sighed, hugging him tightly and breathing into his chest when she felt his arms pull her closer. Neither one of them knew how much time passed, but they just held each other, trying to make sense of the cruelty of the world around them. 

Tom found himself wondering how Avalon had felt this type of pain so many times in her life. It was overbearing, horrific, and crushing. And she had dealt with it time and time again. 

He never wanted her to have to feel it again. 

And he hated that he couldn’t take it away from her right now.

She looked so hopeless… so broken. He would do anything to help her, but he didn’t know how. All he could do was hold her as she whispered, “I’m so tired of losing the people I love…” She looked up at him and he could see in her eyes that she was exhausted. All the grief had taken its toll on her, and she was left completely and utterly… drained. A slight look of fear washed over her and she quietly said, “Tell me I won’t lose you.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he assured her, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I will always be here. For every second of our forever, I will be here.”

Her voice was so frail he could barely hear her when she said, “Every time I think that the universe has already taken everything from me, it finds a way to steal even more. And… I can’t. I can’t keep going through it, Tom. I… Every time I think it can’t possibly hurt any more and… it does. It hurts more and more each time and… I don’t know how much more I can lose.” She wiped away at her own tears angrily, shaking her head. “I miss them,” she said. “I miss Orion… Clara… my friends… my professors… everyone. I… I miss them so much and I can’t… I can’t  _ do this _ anymore.”

“Then maybe it’s time you go back,” he said, the words leaving his mouth before he even really processed them himself. She looked at him with a look of confusion before he took her hand into his own and said, “You came here to save the people you loved from a war that will now never happen… if you go back to your time, they will be there. Alive.”

She shook her head. “I can’t leave you-”

“You wouldn’t have to,” he said, cutting her off. “I could come with you.” He noticed the hesitation in her eyes and kissed her hand. “My home is with you-- wherever you go, I will follow.”

“Tom-”

“You’ve done what you came here to do,” he said softly. “And now you can go and be reunited with those you thought you had lost. You don’t have to keep carrying all of this weight on your shoulders. We can go back.”

_ They could go back. _

The thought was equal parts promising and horrifying. At this point, she wanted to get as far away from this time as possible. She couldn’t bear to walk the halls knowing that she would have to run into the people who had failed Orion when he needed them most. She couldn’t even begin to think about going to classes if the people who pushed him to his edge would be sitting there, smiles on their faces. 

It made her sick.

But, she didn’t know what awaited her in the future. 

“I’m scared,” she admitted, her voice breaking. “I’m scared that… they won’t know me anymore. Or that some of them won’t even exist… I don’t know how much will be different now that the war doesn’t happen. And… the thought of being the only person who remembers it all…” his heart broke when he heard the fear in her voice. “... I’m scared.”

“You don’t have to choose now,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to her lips before pulling away and looking into her eyes. “But, if you want, we can leave this whole mess behind and go back to your real home.”

She looked at him with so much adoration in her gaze that he knew he would follow her to the end of the earth if he had to. 

“I love you,” she said.

“I love you,” he replied.

And, somehow, those three words eased both of their hearts-- if only just a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I've just added a playlist for Orion, as well as an Orion x Clara playlist on my Spotify.  
> Listen here: https://open.spotify.com/user/udx6am93j5kusjg7v9ycbm7r3?si=h7CaS9A-Sli8PzibpLsMrw


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